


Adagio (’slowly, at ease’)

by cherishadamparrish



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Accidental Spooning, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fake/Pretend Relationship, First Kiss, Hand Kink, Love Confessions, M/M, Magician Adam Parrish, Mutual Pining, Oh No This Hotel Room Only Has One Bed, Oh the Obsessive Mutual Pining, Original Characters - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-01
Updated: 2017-06-26
Packaged: 2018-10-26 13:29:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 25,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10787628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherishadamparrish/pseuds/cherishadamparrish
Summary: “You want me,” Adam said incredulously, “to pretend to be your boyfriend.”“Just for the weekend.” Ronan stressed.Adam looked at him witheringly, continuing in a flat, bewildered tone. “Let me get this straight. You want me to fake date you at your brother’s fancy party so you can make some sort of idiotic statement.”“If it’ll get Declan off my fucking back then yes.”“And this is the only way you can think of to achieve that?”“Jesus Christ, I’m not forcing you to, I’ll just -” Ronan huffed. He looked seconds away from storming out.“Hey, wait,” Adam paused, reaching for Ronan’s shoulder. Ronan looked visibly distressed, raking his fingers across his scalp. He seemed genuinely distraught over the entire idea, awkwardly hovering beneath Adam’s palm. It was the only reason why Adam blurted out his next words. “I didn’t… say no.”OR: Adam and Ronan stumble between the lines of the overused Fake Relationship/Pretend Dating trope.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! I have no imagination and love writing about over done tropes! Pls note the canon divergence. /So much divergence/. Vaguely set before TRK. BTW both Lynch parents are dead.

“The fuck would I want to come to your pretentious circle of vain assholes jerking each other off?”

Declan stood near the entrance way of the Barns, calmly glancing at his watch. Matthew was situated nearly in between the two, his bright smile slipping. It was beautiful outside, the sun left trails of gold over the field, the tall grass softly swaying alongside the breeze. Of course Declan thought it’d be the perfect opportunity to turn everything to hell by forcing Ronan to attend another one of his egotistical gatherings with fancy assholes who Ronan couldn’t care less about. For a whole fucking weekend. In D.C.  

“I’m not going to your fucking party.” Ronan hissed in reiteration.

Declan pinched the bridge of his nose. “Ronan, please, stop acting so immature.”

“Guys, c’mon.” Matthew squeaked.

Ronan growled, glaring at Declan. “Why the fuck would I need to go to your goddamn party anyways? I’d rather not talk to your prick associates.”

“It’s a very important function, Ronan,” Declan sighed exhaustively, his words layered in thick condescension. “There are going to be potential business partners, representatives. I need the whole family to be there to establish a good image. You’d need to drive down Friday, help with arrangements, possibly meet some associates. You can hide in your hotel room afterwards until Saturday night for all I care. Over all, you’d only need to be there and act like a decent human being for three hours at most.”  

“The whole family wouldn’t be there.” Ronan said, darkly.

“You’re being difficult.”

“Sorry I don’t feel like fucking parading around-”

“Do you think if there was any possibility of you not being there, that I wouldn’t have taken it?”

“Dec, stop it.” Matthew placed a gentle hand on Ronan’s elbow. His eyes were impossibly large, lips pouting in a way he knew was foolproof. It could’ve been a horribly well constructed tactic but Ronan knew that this was just how Matthew was, faultingly genuine, the glue that had held the brothers together following their parents death. “It’s just for an evening. Please can we just do this. Pal?”

“Fine,” Ronan bit out, simmering.

Matthew smiled widely.

“You’ll need to be presentable.” Declan lifted his pointer finger as if he was checking boxes from a mental list. “Full suit and tie, polite, if you can manage it, cordial at the least-”

“Don’t push it.”

“You’ll also need a date. Particularly not the snarky little girl. Violet? Though I suppose if you’re desperate, I can-”

“What the fuck do you mean?”

“You can’t possibly go alone, wreaking havoc or sulking in the corner, Ronan.” Declan said Ronan’s name exasperatedly, like he was a nuisance, like he couldn't understand why Ronan was being so argumentative over the prospect of bringing a date. He probably didn’t. They’ve always been disconnected, each yielding sharp blades that cut each other, not enough to die but enough to bleed. “I, myself, will be bringing Ashley.”

“Fan-fucking-tastic” Ronan spat out venomously. “I’m not bringing a date."

“Stop being such an asshole, it’ll look better than if you arrive alone. Someone respectable at the very least.”

“God forbid we don’t look completely wholesome.” Ronan seethed. “We’re the perfect fucking family, right?”

“Ronan,” Matthew said, helplessly.

Ronan shot him a disbelieving glare, waving his hands in the general vicinity of his older brother. “He’s being a dick.”

“I know doing the bare minimum isn’t a foreign concept to you based on your school grades so you can do this for me. You need a date to be somewhat presentable.”

“I’m not doing this for _you_.” Ronan gritted his teeth. Matthew patted his arm.

“If you need help finding a suitable date for the night, I know a few modest ladies who might be willing to suffer your company for a few hours.”

Ronan had never explicitly said he was gay. He wasn’t hiding it necessarily, he just didn’t feel like announcing it to the world. He also didn’t think that Declan deserved to know a damn thing about him. Still, the fact that Declan had assumed Ronan would want to bring a female date to his dumbass party grated at his nerves. He curled his hands into fists, his nails digging into the palm of his hand, undoubtedly leaving crescent marks. It was the only thing keeping him grounded.

The thought of having to facade around as a phony idealized version of himself that he should've been, the version that Declan would’ve wanted, made his stomach churn in harsh fury .The lie came rushing out of his mouth before he had the ability to grab the words and stuff them back in.

“I already have a fucking date, thanks.”

“What?” Matthew chirped, eyes as wide as silver dollars. Declan looked just as surprised. It satiated a little pit of satisfaction in Ronan’s gut despite the foretell of dread. “You’re dating someone?”

“You’ve been seeing someone?” Declan mimicked. He spoke in the same smooth, fabricated tone he had when he arrived but the slight twitch of his eyebrows was telling of his curiousity. “And you didn’t think to let us know?”

“I don’t need to tell you everything,” Ronan said, irate. He masked his distress with vague annoyance.

“You do if you’re fucking them. Who is it? Do we know her?”

“No,” he snarled, “you don’t fucking know  _him_.”

Declan froze at the implications of the sentence, floundering. Ronan was coiled tight, arms wound to his sides, breath sharp.

Matthew was the first to break the silence. “Well, I can’t wait to meet your boyfriend then!”

Words caught in his throat. Ronan didn’t give a fuck about what Declan thought but he cared about Matthew. Matthew, who looked at Ronan like he hadn’t just come out in the most cumbersome way and smiled, blonde curls gleaming.

It was relieving, finally saying it aloud.

“Well, bring him then.” Declan’s voice was hoarse. At Ronan’s defensive glare, he raised his arms. “I don’t care who you date.”

Ronan rolled his eyes. It looked like he cared a whole lot thirty seconds ago.

“Whatever,” Ronan spit out, “you can meet him at the fucking party. Are we done here?”

Declans lips were pursed firmly together but he nodded nonetheless. Ronan stormed away, keys fisted in his grip. There was a harrowing ache in his chest and he flung himself inside the BMW, blasting lyricless electronica at a deafening volume before speeding away.  

 

* * *

 

 

It was late when Ronan returned to Monmouth. The sky was blanketed in an obsidian slate, stars invisible and hidden. Despite the desperate drive, gunning down the empty roads, the thrum of adrenaline pumping through his veins, Ronan felt unsteady.

He thundered inside, not properly greeting Gansey when he looked up from where he was crouched next to his cardboard setting of miniature Henrietta. There were dark circles under his eyes and the way he was sitting must have been uncomfortable but he looked extensively relieved.

“You know,” Gansey started. Ronan groaned obnoxiously from where he was grabbing a beer from the fridge. “You could let me know if you’re going to be staying out late.”

Ronan popped open the can of beer, lounging across the couch and shrugged noncommittally.

Gansey continued, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “You have a cell phone, Lynch. It wouldn’t hurt to use it.”

“I do. It makes a good paper weight.”

Gansey blew out an irritated breath. “You can’t just disappear all hours of the night.”

Ronan stayed silent, stonily staring at the ceiling.

“Seeing your brothers didn’t go so well, I suppose.”

“Nothing gets past you, Dick.”

Gansey exhaled quietly and Ronan braced himself. He knew a nervous Gansey when he saw one and he shut his eyes in trepidation.

“Ronan, I wanted to talk with you.” Gansey hesitated. “Declan called me earlier-”

“Christ.”

“-to interrogate me about your boyfriend."

_"Christ."_

“I told him that if he wanted to know about that, he’d have to ask you himself.” Gansey looked to Ronan, abandoning his notebooks and came to rest near the arm of the couch. It was Gansey’s guileless expression, the Gansey-way he chewed on mint leaves and ran a nervous thumb on his bottom lip. “Either he’s disillusioned or you’ve been lying. To me.”

“I don’t have a boyfriend.” Ronan said with finality.

Gansey sighed. “What sort’ve mess have you gotten yourself into now?”

Ronan growled, hurdling off the couch. “Nothing that I can’t take of myself, thanks Dick.”

“Ronan, please. Let’s just discuss-”

“Leave it alone.” Ronan snatched his keys, leaving his beer unfinished on the floor.

He should’ve known it was a bad idea. To lie to Declan, to come to Monmouth to forget about it. He could’ve barricaded himself in his bedroom, he had a mini fridge filled with beer beside his bed. But he wanted to feel okay. He found himself storming out the entrance, Gansey sighing behind him, arduously making his way towards his car.

He already knew where he was going.

 

* * *

 

It took a few minutes before Adam groggily answered the door, dressed in a tattered old shirt and boxers. He looked severely annoyed, haphazardly running his fingers through his messy hair, and for a brief second Ronan let himself feel guilty for waking Adam up. Adam probably got less sleep than any of them even though he deserved it the most.

“Rise and shine Parrish.”

“Christ Ronan,” Adam groaned. “It’s three in the fucking morning. And I wasn’t sleeping.”

Vaguely, as Ronan stepped inside, he noticed the dim light near Adam’s desk and notes sprawled over the surface. It was hard to find time for everything, especially when Cabeswater was demanding of Adam's attentions. Adam crumbled on his desk chair, refocusing on the scrawled print and Ronan watched as long, slender fingers reached for a dull pencil.

It was mesmerizing. The way the pencil rolled between Adam’s fingertips with ease when he was concentrating. The way his hand skated across the sheet of paper, elegant and steady, the telltale furrow of Adam’s brow when he was beginning to understand a difficult concept. Ronan pressed against the wall opposite of Adam, sliding down until he was on the floor. He watched the way Adam’s figure was hunched over the desk and Ronan tilted his head, so that the back of it was touching the wall and closed his eyes.

Ronan spoke, after minutes of listening to Adam’s soft breaths, roughly scratching down equations. “You’re going to have fucked up posture by the time you’re twenty.”

Adam snorted. “Thanks for the tip.”

“Why the hell are you doing homework this late.” It was a stupid question.

“Some of us like to actually get our work done, Lynch.” Adam said witheringly. “If you’re not going to leave me alone, then get out.”

After that, conversation ceased. Ronan gnawed at his leather bands, thinking about the conversation with his brothers. With Gansey. Fuck, fuck,  _fuck._

After twenty minutes of unfalteringly silence, Adam looked over his shoulder, the chair creaking in protest at the movement. Ronan’s eyes were still closed and his lips were curved downwards, eyebrows crinkled.

Suddenly, like he knew he was being watched, Ronan spoke. “Thought you were doing homework.”

Adam rolled his eyes despite Ronan not being able to see it. “I finished the work sheet and looked over my answers. I might get a head start on world history though.”

Ronan opened his eyes to where Adam was pulling out a worn textbook. It was overused to the point where the spine was held together with three struggling pieces of tape. Adam held it carefully, dextrous hands sliding down the cover. Ronan needed to close his eyes again.

“We don’t even have world history until Friday. Take a breath, Parrish. It’s three fucking AM.”

“If you’re so damn tired, go to sleep.” Adam snapped. He was still sitting on the chair but he turned so that he was facing Ronan, folding his legs in front of him and placing the textbook on his lap. He took a steadying breath.  _Don't fight with Ronan_. “How was visiting your brothers?”

“Fucking wonderful. Declan was a dick, as always.”

“Wonder where he gets it from.”

“He takes it to a whole new level. He’s a fucking asshole.”

Ronan crossed his arms, his eyes fluttering open. Adam tried not to pay too close attention at how Ronan's dark eyelashes left swooping shadows along marble cheekbones. He looked down at his textbook, words blending into other words, not really comprehending.

“How was Matthew?” Adam asked softly.

Ronan relaxed a bit at the mention of the youngest Lynch. “He’s a goddamn ray of sunshine. Apparently he’s now really into soccer and won’t shut up about it.”

“A Lynch described as a ray of sunshine? I don’t believe it.” Adam quirked a quiet smile.

“You haven’t met him yet. He’s the best of us all.”

Ronan brought his wrists to his mouth to chew on his leather bands. It was his nervous tick and as secretive as Ronan liked to portray himself as, he wore his heart on his edgy, raven-black sleeve.

“What else happened?”

“Nothing.” Ronan bit out.

Adam tapped the eraser end of his pencil against his lower lip, in faux contemplation. “You’re a lot more twitchy than usual.”

“I’m not fucking twitchy.”

“Whatever Lynch,” Adam sighed. It was the same feeling of insecurity that washed over him. The same small voice that said that he would never be Gansey, he would never be able to know Ronan and Gansey as well as they knew each other. He was Adam Parrish: an outsider, trespasser, unknowable and unknowing. “You don’t need to tell me.”

  
“It’s Declan,” the words dragged out of Ronan in the same way boat shoes would from Gansey’s formidable grasp. He was staring stringently at the floor. “And this stupid, dumb-ass, stupid-dumb-ass party he’s hosting this weekend.”

“It must be tough having to hear about your brother throwing away money on an excessive party.”

“He fucking forcing me to come. And bring my date.” Ronan groaned.

Adam peered up from his textbook. “Oh, I didn’t, I wasn’t aware that you were-”

“I’m not.”

“Jesus Christ, I’m not coherent enough for this.” Adam rubbed his eyes. “You told him you were dating?”

“Well he was throwing shit around about getting me a date, knowing Declan, more pretentious than Dick. And now I have to bring a date because I can’t fucking show up without one. He thought I might bring fucking Sargent but-”

“-you’re not a lamp person, I know.”

For a second, Ronan lifted his gaze and made eye contact with Adam. “Right.”

Adam figured Ronan was going to bring Gansey. He’d already met the Lynch brothers, he was intelligent and charming and had enough money to buy each of the party-goers a large boat. Gansey, who was a prince, a _king_ , who could sweet talk a calendar in one of his pristine, unblemished suits. Gansey, who had experience with lavish parties and extensive knowledge on utensil etiquette and knew the right republican bullshit to spew.

He tried to quell the unwarranted jealousy at the thought of Gansey and Ronan together.

“Fuck it,” Ronan muttered. He anxiously stood up, angrily stuffing his hands in his pockets. “Do you want to be my boyfriend for the weekend or whatever.”

Adam gaped at him in surprise. He snapped his textbook shut, despite it’s fragility, and placed it on his desk.

“You want  _me_ ,” Adam said incredulously, “to pretend to be your  _boyfriend_.”

“Just for the weekend.” Ronan stressed.

Adam looked at him witheringly, continuing in a flat, bewildered tone. “Let me get this straight. You want me to fake date you at your brother’s fancy party so you can make some sort of idiotic statement.”

Ronan shrugged. He was trying for disinterest. “If it’ll get Declan off my fucking back then yes.”

“And this is the only way you can think of to achieve that?”

“Jesus Christ, I’m not forcing you to, I’ll just-” Ronan huffed. He looked seconds away from storming out.

“Hey, wait,” Adam paused, standing to reach out for Ronan’s shoulder. Ronan looked visibly distressed, raking his fingers across his scalp. He seemed genuinely distraught over the entire idea, awkwardly hovering beneath Adam’s palm. It was the only reason why Adam blurted out his next words. “I didn’t… say no.”

Adam knew that he would need to change all his shifts around, he’d need to work extra to make up for the hours lost and that facading as Ronan’s boyfriend in front of his brother would most likely be awkward and uncomfortable. Still, there was a part of him that was interested to see what it would be like to be worthy of the title of Ronan Lynch’s boyfriend. He knew his decision - impulsive and reckless and overall stupid- was already made.

“Fine. I’m in.”

Ronan jolted. “What?”

“Did you really think I wouldn’t do it?”

“I don’t know.” Ronan spluttered. “This isn’t a regular fucking thing you ask people.”

“No,” Adam said, quiet. “But I know you make some pretty stupid decisions especially when Declan is involved. I don’t mind having to pretend around your brothers for the weekend.”

“What about work?”

“I’ll pick up some extra shifts this week and switch my shifts this weekend around.”

Normally, Adam would not do this. If Gansey had thought to berate Adam, even considered the possibility of asking Adam to skip a shift, Adam would have stormed out as quickly as he had arrived. They were both aware of this but no one brought it up.

“Okay," Ronan nodded in disbelief. "Fine, cool. Great. Thanks, I guess." He added, casually.  

There was no way Adam would be able to concentrate on school work now. 

He sighed. “I'm exhausted. Get the light, would you Lynch?”

Adam collapsed on top of his thin mattress, tossing a blanket to Ronan, who peeled off his tank to use as a pillow. Despite the way his tired eyes ached to close, Adam felt uncomfortably awake, a vivacious energy thrumming under his skin. Adam never felt vivacious in his life. He knew he had a shift in a couple hours, he knew that he would regret not taking advantage of the few hours of sleep that he could get. Still, he was aware of Ronan laying silently beside him, rustling every few minutes. Adam’s mattress hardly lifted off the floor. It was almost as if they were sleeping next to each other.

Adam did not break the silence. Neither did Ronan. Eventually Adam managed to fall asleep, a feat not entirely too difficult.

By the time his alarm went off, Ronan was gone, his blanket folded neatly. And placed on top was a silky navy tie.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This entire fic was supposed to be 10K total instead this chapter is itself almost 10K. The summary? Basically Mutual Obsessive Pining. 
> 
> PS. Can u tell that I completely bullshitted the part where Adam’s working on the engine? Hi, I have no idea what cars are. 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading, esp commenting/kudos-ing & giving this fic a chance. Super motivating to hear if people liked it or not!!

Ronan hardly slept the night he stayed at St. Agnes and when he did all he could think about was Adam.

The dream started like this.

They were in Cabeswater. The forest was lush with emerald leaves and blooming flowers that didn’t exist outside the scape of Ronan’s head. Vines twisted around trees and hung off of curled branches like streamers.

However, this beauty was nothing compared to the sight in the center where Adam stood, carelessly dressed in a dark, elegant suit. His tie, a luxurious navy, looked almost liquid against his chest. Ronan ached,  _yearned,_ to touch Adam, to bring his hand to his lips and lightly press them against Adam’s knuckles. Adam stood still, not acknowledging Ronan, as if he couldn’t see him. Adam blinked slowly, his eyelashes fluttering, brilliant blue eyes peering beneath them. It hurt to look at him.

Ronan stepped forward, his feet squishing against the mossy ground, and broke the impenetrable silence. “What are you doing here?”

Adam shrugged. It was almost as if they were both forced to move in slow-motion. Adam parted his lips, Ronan tracking the movement, before speaking lowly. “It’s your fucked up head, Lynch. What am I doing here?”

“I don’t know.”

The edges of Adam’s mouth quirked up. His tie shimmered. “I think you do.”

Adam lifted his hand. Ronan walked closer, gently grabbing it, before kissing it in a way he had done hundreds of times in dreams like these. Adam smiled, loose and open, unguarded. That, along with him dressed in a suit, was enough to leave Ronan rooted to the ground. Adam was heartstopping. Ronan would do anything for that smile. Actual roots started to twist their way around Ronan’s ankles leaving him immobile.

Adam stepped backwards, just out of Ronan’s reach.

“Adam,” Ronan said, strangled. Roots started crawling up his legs, wrapping around his hips and chest in a way that was too constricting.

“Ronan.”

At Adam’s voice the roots halted. When Adam stepped forward, hands cupping Ronan’s cheeks, the roots fell apart, freeing Ronan from their grasp. Ronan’s hands grasped Adam’s shoulders, running along his chest and stopping at the edge of his tie. It was impossibly silky, like if you touched it, it would spill in between your fingertips.

“Si vis amari, ama.” Adam whispered. His voice sounded musical and awake.

“It’s not that simple.” Ronan’s fingers stilled on the navy material. “I don’t even know if you-”

“Omnia vincit amor, et nos cedamus amori.” Adam responded, gently.

He suddenly leaned in to press against Ronan’s lips. Ronan’s grip unintentionally tightened its hold on Adam’s tie but before their lips could meet, Ronan woke up.

He felt like he was doused in cold water. He let the feeling rush back into his limbs, shaking off the last of the paralysis that came with these dreams and shot up from where he was on the floor. He glanced at the clock on an old stand near Adam’s bed. It was almost 5:00, Adam would need to wake up in less than an hour for work. Ronan looked down at his lap, Adam’s tie still curled in his fists and swore under his breath.

Adam, the real Adam, was curled up on his mattress, tucked underneath a ratty blanket. His back was facing Ronan but he could imagine the way Adam’s cheek was smooshed against the pillow, the way his dry lips would be cracked open with a thin stream of drool running down his chin. Adam was magical.

Ronan quickly folded the blanket and after a moment’s deliberation, he placed the tie on top of the pile. He pulled his tank on, quickly toeing on his shoes and fled into the chilly morning where the sun was just beginning to rise.

 

* * *

 

Adam woke up to the sound of his alarm blaring. He wiped the drool from his mouth, glancing at the clock that read 5:30 and then the empty space near the bed, unsurprised at Ronan’s disappearance. He hardly had the time to contemplate the tie Ronan left behind. After quickly hopping in the shower and devouring a thin cheese sandwich, Adam left for his first shift at the factory for 6. He worked tediously before clocking out at 8:30 and rushing to school for 9. He felt unfaltering disappointment at Ronan’s absence but knocked knuckles with Gansey, who looked worn and tired. Gansey still managed a bright smile that was stretched almost painfully across his face. Adam knew immediately that Gansey and Ronan must’ve fought. When he asked about it, Gansey brushed him off with a shrug and a ‘don’t worry about it, Adam. I’m sure it’ll work itself out. What did you get for question 2b?”

At lunch Adam managed to eat an apple before he started his tutoring sessions. After school, he raced to his next shift at Boyds where he worked until 8. He had talked to his bosses about switching shifts, which they hadn’t been all too happy with, but were willing to accommodate for Adam, who had never missed a shift, no matter the weather or his well-being.

Currently, Adam was stretched underneath a car, wrench in his grip. His stomach was ravenous, the entire Ronan situation kept replaying in his mind. He thought about next week’s final exam and when he would have time to study for it. He was, to put it mildly, stressed.

Cabeswater reached out, fluttering along the edges of Adam’s vision, the familiar smell of moss and leaves drowning out the more familiar smell of gasoline. _Magician._

It helped.

Still, after his shift, instead of collapsing at St. Agnes and getting a head start on his english essay or jotting down notes for his biochemistry exam, Adam made his way to Nino’s.

He needed to sort his thoughts out. He needed a second opinion on the Ronan situation. He needed a decent meal, 8 hours of sleep, a few moments to himself, he needed, he needed, he _needed._

He needed a friend. Blue was good like that.

 

* * *

 

When Adam arrived, he tossed a quick wave at Blue who was rushing down the aisles. She waved in response before handling an order and Adam took that as an invitation to take a seat. He decided on an isolated booth, a light fixture swaying above the table and fiddled with the drink menu even though he wasn’t planning on ordering anything.

Adam was so pulled into his thoughts that he jumped when Blue suddenly spoke, a pitcher of iced tea in one hand and a tray with a handful of dirty plates in the other. He wasn’t sure how long she had been there but her hip was cocked to the side, mouth slightly downturned.

“Christ, Adam,” Blue said as she poured Adam a glass. “I can see the bags under your eyes from across the room.”

“Thanks Blue, nice to see you too.”

She grinned. “Let me get these last few tables and I’ll take my break.”

Adam nodded as Blue already begun sashaying towards the kitchen. She left the pitcher of iced tea behind and instead was reaching between people to collect their plates and add to the ever growing pile on her tray. Adam sipped at his drink, chewing on the straw and trying to stay awake. He was running through standard biochemical reactions in his head when Blue returned, this time with two plates of pizza. She slid into the booth across Adam, placing the plates down in front of him.

“I managed to steal some pizza from the back. You know how much food they waste in this place?” Blue rolled her eyes, picking the pepperoni from her pizza before taking a bite.

Adam knew she said this for his benefit.

She was dressed in her standard uniform but still managed to looked unique - entirely _Blue_ \-  among her coworkers. Her choppy hair was decorated in mismatched clips and she wore strange earrings that Adam knew had to be homemade. She really was beautiful. Adam knew that if this was months ago, underneath the incandescent lights, he would’ve felt the familiar fluttering in his chest. Now, he felt incredibly grateful for a friend like Blue Sargent.

He reached over and added Blue’s pepperoni slices onto his own pizza before taking a massive bite. “Thanks Blue.”

“So, what’s up?”

“It’s,” Adam sighed. “It’s this thing. With Ronan.”

“Is he being an asshole?”

“Always. But that’s not the problem. Declan’s throwing this party and Ronan needs to attend. Only, Ronan said he had a date… when he doesn’t.”

Blue looked at Adam expectantly. Adam continued, awkwardly. “So he asked me to pretend to be his boyfriend for the weekend.”

Blue burst into laughter. At Adam’s confused expression, she tapped the table sympathetically. “Well, if it had to be one of us, you’re probably the best candidate. Dear God, imagine Noah pretending to be Ronan’s boyfriend.”

“You aren’t surprised? That he asked me?”

“No? Ronan knows like five people. Not a lot to choose from.”

“He could’ve paid someone to do it.”

“I doubt he’d want to introduce some weirdo to his brothers - well Matthew at least,” Blue amended. “He trusts you.”

“I guess.” Adam prodded at his second piece of pizza. “Do you think it was a bad idea? To say yes, I mean?”

“Nah, I think it’d be good for you two.”

“Pretending to date would be good for us?”

Blue reached over to lightly punch Adam’s shoulder. “Spend some one on one time together.”

“I don’t know.” Adam exhaustively rubbed a hand roughly down his face. It felt easy to talk to Blue and if anyone knew of his inability to be a good boyfriend, it was her. “I just. I don’t know how to be a boyfriend. That’s all.”

“Hey, don’t be so hard on yourself. You weren’t too horrible at it.” Blue smiled and Adam tried to smile back.

“I just don’t want to mess anything up with Ronan. Or his family. I’ve only ever seen Declan once or twice and we didn’t really get a chance to speak.” At the time, Ronan and Declan had been brawling outside of Monmouth. Adam walked past the spectacle and inside where Gansey beckoned him from the couch, notes of Glendower and Welsh kings cradled on his lap. “I also wanted to apologize. For getting angry. For, for-”

Blue stood up and joined Adam on his side of the table. It was late, the restaurant was mostly empty and her co-workers were probably in the back, chatting. She had no qualms leaning her head against Adam’s shoulder, who tilted his head on top of hers in response. “We both made mistakes. I forgive you anyways. Just don’t let it happen again. And about the fake dating thing; stop stressing about it so much. It’s _Ronan_. It might be awkward and weird but it’ll be okay.” Blue pulled away from Adam, turning to face him and scrunched her nose. “I feel bad that you have to attend a party with rich assholes though.”

Adam snorted. “Tell me about it. How many do you think are going to be bigoted pricks?”

“You’re attending a party where the attendants are rich enough to throw out their mansions when their sink gets clogged. You tell me.”

Surprised laughter burst from Adam’s lips before he had the ability to contain it. Adam knew that Blue’s break was lasting unusually long, that the extra time might be pulled from her paycheck, yet she made no move to leave. Though the place was vacant, Adam appreciated the sentiment nonetheless. Blue made his heart feel irregularly full.

“Thanks for talking with me. I can always count on your advice.”

“You know you can always talk to me. Especially when you’re stuck in the middle of a horrible, cliche trope.” Blue cackled. “Seriously, I can’t imagine what Lynch would be like dating.”

Adam didn’t want to admit that he spent an inordinate amount of time thinking about what dating Ronan Lynch would be like.

“If Ronan starts kicking a Republican’s ass, I’ll send pictures.”

Blue grinned. “Make sure that you do.”

Now Blue stood up and stretched, retrieving the empty plates and glasses from the table and piling them together. Her tray was still at the counter in the back but stacking the dishes together would make it easier to collect later. Adam slid out of the booth, his knees cracking as he stretched his legs out. He reached into his pocket for his keys.

“Hey,” Blue gently placed a hand on Adam’s shoulder, her eyes softening infestimentally. “Try to get some sleep would you?”

Adam knew he couldn’t. At least not tonight. He nodded anyways, leaning into her touch, tweaking one of her misshaped hair clips. “Sure, Blue.”

 

* * *

 

Between school, back-to-back shifts and making last minute trips to Cabeswater to help out with menial tasks like moving rocks around, Adam found himself Ronan-less. Adam still had no details for the weekend despite it being Thursday night. He felt annoyed; he was killing himself making sure he would be free from any distractions this weekend, for Ronan, who hadn’t even had the decency to tell Adam what time they’d be leaving on tomorrow.

He was currently at Boyds hunched over an old car looking over it’s engine. He was tightening some knobs that had come loose and replacing an old belt which had worn from usage. Despite the cool chill of the evening filtering into the garage, Adam had rolled down his sweaty coveralls to his hips, tying the sleeves around his waist, displaying a thin white t-shirt underneath. There was an old radio in the corner playing some sort of loud music. It helped garble Adam’s thoughts and kept him focussed on the tedious tasks at hand. He was so attentive to fastening a displaced screw that he was unaware of approaching footsteps until his music was abruptly shut off.

“Christ, Parrish, you willingly listen to that mainstream garbage?”

Adam jolted out of his stupor. Immediately, he scowled and kept his back turned. “What do you want Lynch?”

“Someone’s in a fucking mood.”

“I might be in a fucking mood because you haven’t bothered to talk to me in the last three days.”

“You’ve been working!” Ronan sounded exasperated.

“Whatever Lynch.”

Peculiarly, Ronan didn’t speak. Adam continued working. It wasn’t unusual to have Ronan crash his workplace and keep himself occupied while Adam worked a shift. But this was different. It took all of Adam’s willpower to not turn around to see what Ronan was doing. He heard rustling movement, Ronan’s predictable combat boots scuffing the grimy cement, a tool box being opened. Another few moments passed before Adam felt something small hit his shoulder. He frowned, subconsciously touching the spot that was hit, before looking on the ground to find a standard bolt.

Adam picked up the bolt and whirled around facing Ronan who was sitting cross legged on the floor, spreading out containers of what appeared to be Chinese food.

Adam ignored the grumbling of his stomach. He glared at Ronan with spectacular contempt. “Did you just throw a fucking bolt at me?”

“How else was I supposed to get your attention?”

“You’re an asshole.”

“An asshole with dinner.”

Adam did not move.

Ronan sighed noisily. “I’m sorry okay? I’ve been doing some last minute shit for the party. Your schedule's been so fucked up lately, it’s hard tracking where you are.”

Ronan wasn’t about to admit that he’d accidentally arrived at the factory three separate times when Adam was not working. Adam, who had switched shifts around to accommodate the schedule change, had not thought to inform him.  

“Shit Parrish,” Ronan gestured dramatically at the food. “I can’t finish this myself. I’ll probably throw it out and then it’ll be a _real_ waste.”

“You’re a real goddamn piece of work.” Adam reluctantly walked over, dropping the bolt back in its rightful place and returning the wrench to the open tool box. He quietly sat down across from Ronan after wiping his hands on a dirtied rag, grabbing a plastic fork and popping a wanton in his mouth.

Ronan grinned.

“What last minute errands were you doing today?” Adam asked, attempting at normal conversation. He wasn’t quite sure if he felt like chewing Ronan out when he looked sincerely apologetic.  

Ronan shrugged. “Had to go into town to pick up some shit for Matthew. Declan’s also been calling me non-stop.”

Ronan flashed his phone screen which displayed _12 missed calls from Dicklan Lynch._

“Jesus.” Adam said. “I can’t believe you’re actually carrying your phone around.”

“It gives me sick pleasure ignoring his calls.”

Adam ate from the container of chicken fried rice while Ronan was stuffing dark noodles in his mouth.

“You’re doing an awful lot for a party you hate.” Adam mused.

Ronan shrugged. “It’ll keep Matthew happy.”

“But that’s not all.”

Ronan sighed. He sounded annoyed, not at Adam, but in general. At the world, at his brother, at the events that led him to disastrous party errands. “Declan said if I was ‘suitably affable’ for the weekend, I’d be able to go back to the Barns. He left a goddamn voicemail after we first talked about all these shitty plans for his pretentious party. I just - If I gotta go through a hellish weekend to get to stay at the Barns, I’ll do it.”

“Oh.” It felt underwhelming to say but Adam wasn’t sure how to respond even though there were thousands of things he could have said. _You don’t deserve to have the Barns taken away from you._ Or,  _you love Matthew so much. Maybe, would you be horribly offended if I was slightly excited, not-so-terribly opposed to being your fake boyfriend for the weekend?_

“Yeah,” Ronan laughed hollowly. In the faded lighting of the run down garage, his features were razor sharp. He was all angles and dips and edges. “Declan’s a dick.”

The residual anger Adam felt emptied from his chest. Ronan was prodding at a strange lump in the kung pao chicken and a strange burst of fondness erupted in Adam’s chest. Ronan was dressed in his usual black tank, the edges of his tattoo snaking up along his shoulders and near the back of his neck.

When Ronan was like this, not actively acting like an asshole or grinning maniacally after persuading Adam to grade another parking lot, he looked softer. A silent smile pulled at Ronan’s dark lips, the same one that appeared when Chainsaw curled into his hands or when Matthew rushed towards him.

It was yet another side of Ronan that Adam was privileged of witnessing.  

“You booked off shifts this weekend right?” Ronan mused.

Adam stared at Ronan like he was stupid.

Ronan raised his hands in defense. “Just making sure. We can leave after classes tomorrow and swing by St. Agnes to get your bags.”

Adam quirked his brow. “Are you actually planning on showing up at school?”

“Probably not.” Ronan shrugged. “But I had Matthew text me all the details for tomorrow. We’ll need to stop by the venue and sign some shit.”

“I’ll also need to pick up a suit quickly beforehand-”

“No need. I have one for you. And before you freak out, I dreamed it. No cost, perfect measurements, whatever.”

" _Lynch-_ ”

 

" _Parrish,_ ” Ronan mimicked, in a high-pitched version of Adam’s accent, “you wouldn’t even need a suit if it wasn’t for me. Just let me give you a goddamn suit.”

“Fine.”

Ronan flicked a stray piece of rice at Adam, which bounced harmlessly off his cheek. Adam glowered at him but didn’t retaliate. There was no point in wasting food.

“Christ,” Adam thoughtfully rolled a chicken ball in curry sauce. He thought about the very long drive to D.C awaiting them. “Five hours in a car with you.”

“Three at most.” Ronan grinned, flashing his teeth.

“Drive within the speed limit.” Adam said even though he knew it was pointless.

“The speed limit’s for fucking losers.”

They spent the next 15 minutes finishing up. Adam started piling empty containers together and tossing them in a lonely trash can. Ronan, still sitting lazily on the dirty floor, as if he proudly owned the dingy garage, had a spot of sauce near the corner of his mouth. Adam briefly thought about wiping it away with his thumb. Except he wasn’t brave enough and he didn’t want to make things weird and _Jesus Christ_ they haven’t even _discussed_ fake-dating yet.

Instead Adam tossed a crumpled napkin in Ronan’s general direction. “You’ve got shit on your face, Lynch.”

Ronan’s response was a wolfish grin.

 

* * *

 

“So you decided to pretend to be… boyfriends?” Gansey spluttered.

“It wasn’t my decision.” Adam huffed.

“No,” Gansey replied, drily. “You just agreed to it.”

They were stuck in English class when Gansey brought it up. Adam had been dutifully reading Macbeth, marking notes in the margins of the playbook while Gansey fidgeted beside him before interrupting.

“What should I have done?” Adam shut his book. The rest of the class was distracted with their own unproductive activities while the teacher sat at his desk, using the time to catch up on marking.

“I don’t know. I’m just surprised. So, you two, are just going to date for the whole weekend?”

" _Fake-_ date but yes. Ronan’s picking me up after class and we’re heading out to D.C.”

“I wasn’t aware that you two were disappearing for the entire weekend.” Gansey frowned. “I was hoping we’d be able to go to Cabeswater.”

“You’ll just have to manage without me and Ronan. Take Blue and Noah.”

Gansey chewed on his bottom lip contemplatively. “Have you seen Noah lately?” At Adam’s confused head shake, Gansey sighed. “He’s been fainter lately. He isn’t able to stay as long anymore. He’s only really present when Jane’s around. I’m quite worried over the entire ordeal.”

Gansey spoke with stainless honestly. This was the Gansey that unnerved Adam, the Gansey that Adam admired, the Gansey that was so infuriatingly good willed. Adam had trouble responding in a way that wasn’t a lie or needlessly harsh.

He settled with: “we’ll figure it out when we get back. Maybe we can visit Cabeswater after school on Monday.” Adam already begun mentally reshuffling work and study hours and the scanty amount of sleep he already didn’t get.

“Oh, yes, I’ve actually been thinking lately-”

“Gansey.” Adam interrupted, looking pointedly at his Macbeth text.

“Right, yes, Monday then.” He smiled brightly which Adam couldn’t help but briefly return. He opened his text to analyze the rest of the period.

Time passed rather quickly and after his last period of the day, he headed out to the grounds in search of the familiar BMW. Ronan was parked near the edge of the entrance, dark car gleaming under the malicious sun.

“Ronan Lynch on Aglionby grounds. Have you turned to ash yet?” Adam said as he pulled himself into the passenger’s seat. There was a titillating shift from the dry heat of the outside to the cool blast of the A.C. Rough electronica reverberated from the speakers.

Ronan snorted. He was wearing dark, obnoxious shades in his usual attire. He lounged across the seat, one hand carelessly placed on the wheel while the other rested on the open window. Adam rolled his eyes at the fact that Ronan insisted on leaving the window open and blasting the A.C to try to look cool.

“Administration threw holy water on me before I was close enough. It burned.”

Adam barked out a dry huff of laughter.

They quickly stopped off at St. Agnes where Adam grabbed his pre-packed bag. He had to grip it from the bottom, where there was a prominent hole, and quickly shuffled back into the car. He felt nervous and tired and a little buzzed for the trip. It was confusing.

Ronan parked at a gas station while Adam wandered inside to purchase a handful of snacks and drinks. Ronan arrived afterwards, adding to Adam’s measly pile of treats and they each paid for what they chose: Ronan, some chips, chocolate bars and a gatorade while Adam purchased a bag of pretzels and a coke.

Immediately after devouring his pretzels and reluctantly accepting a candy bar from Ronan, Adam promptly fell asleep, cheek pressed against the soft leather of the seat.

 

Adam was slowly brought back to consciousness by the low hum of the engine running and lack of electronica blasting through the radio. He blinked, grimacing as he peeled his cheek off of the now sticky leather, undoubtedly leaving crease marks along his face.

“Christ, you better not have drooled all over my leather seats.”

Adam flushed and grumbled. “You could’ve woken me up you know.”

Ronan snickered, no longer wearing sunglasses as he sped down the streets. “And miss hearing you snore for an hour and a half?”

Adam rolled his eyes. He knew he didn’t snore. If he did, then Ronan had never bothered to mention it when he had stayed overnight at St. Agnes before. Adam took a swig of his flat coke, rubbing his eyes.

“How far along are we?”

“Well, while you’ve been merrily fucking dead to the world, I’ve managed to get us more than half way.”

“You’re an asshole.” Adam turned so that the left side of his face was pressed against the back of the seat and he was staring at Ronan’s side profile. Ronan looked more relaxed than Adam had seen him in a while, his lips slightly quirked, posture casual and laid-back. “Follow the goddamn law.”

“I don’t plan on getting a ticket the entire weekend, Parrish.”

Adam hummed in content. He snatched another one of Ronan’s candy bars.

After another half an hour of mindless banter, Adam asked, “so what’s the plan for tomorrow night?”

“Get the hell in and out in under half an hour.”

Adam rolled his eyes. “I _meant_ how are we going to do this? To convince them that we’re dating?”

“I don’t fucking know, let’s just pretend not to hate each other, I guess?”

“That may be pushing it.”

“Asshole.” Ronan coughed, clearing his throat. “What do you think we should do?”

“I don’t know?” Adam spoke like he was reading off a list of statistics, always logical. Always thinking three steps ahead. “Hand holding is a given. I figured light touches throughout the night-”

Ronan was strictly focussed on the road but Adam noticed his face reddening.

“What?” Adam huffed. “Did you think we’d be able to convince them 10 feet apart arguing over God knows what?”

“Jesus, no, I just didn’t think we’d need to be fucking cuddling in a corner for them to think that we’re dating.” The word ‘dating’ left Ronan as strangled as he felt.

“I said _light_ touches Lynch. If you have such a problem with it-”

“I don’t.” Ronan blurted. “It’s whatever. I don’t care. Sure, light touches. Cool. Fine.”

Adam rolled his eyes. “Should we have a story of how we got together prepared?”

Ronan grinned. “You saw me correctly conjugate latin verbs and you knew you just had to have me.”

“Or I saw you incorrectly conjugate latin verbs, corrected you and you decided to thank me with a coffee.”

“Wait, you’re actually willing to accept a coffee in these scenarios?”

“Shut up Lynch.” Adam knocked Ronan’s shoulder. “Let’s just say we met ‘cause of Gansey, which isn’t really a lie and that we started dating not too long afterwards.”

Ronan grunted. “Sounds good.”

“We should also talk about what we’re going to do if we run into homophobic assholes.”

“Drop kick them out the nearest window?”

“Why is defenestration your answer for everything?”

“Not everything, just obnoxious ghosts and homophobic dick-pricks.”

“Lynch, you can’t really be considering making a scene in the middle of your brother’s party.” Adam wasn’t about to condone throwing homophobes out the window even though he hardly saw the harm. “Think about the barns.” He added, for good measure.

Ronan exhaled noisily, nostrils flaring. “I don’t think anyone’s going to make a big deal about it. They’re all spineless losers. I don’t give a fuck about what they think anyways. Do you?”

“Couldn’t care less.”

And that was that.

 

* * *

 

They weren’t able to check into their hotel until after visiting the venue at Declan’s fanciful request. Ronan pulled the car to a halt at a grand hall that was situated near the outskirts of the city. The hall looked older, surrounded by a charming landscape of well-handled gardens and spurts of lush trees adorning the area. Adam stood by the car, stretching his limbs. He raised his arms above his head, slightly pulling his shirt up and revealing a small patch of smooth skin on his flat stomach. Ronan zoned in on the area. He scowled, feeling like a creep and quickly turned away.

They ventured towards the entrance where an overly cheery lady was waiting, dressed in a long pencil skirt and pristine blazer. Her blonde hair was pulled back tight and she flashed a Gansey smile, the smile he wore when he was with his family at his own prestigious events.

“Hello, can I help you with anything?” The lady chimed.

Ronan continued glowering.

“Hello ma’am,” Adam said politely, his words polished in his honey-like accent. He immediately grimaced and his next words came out more clean-cut, accent held back. “We’re here for Declan Lynch’s event tomorrow evening. We were told we were needed for some last minute preparations.”

“Oh,” she clasped her hands together, glancing furtively at Ronan. “You must be Mr. Lynch’s younger brother and partner.”

Adam subconsciously smiled. It was weird. He reached to shake her hand. “I’m Adam Parrish, ma’am. And this is Ronan Lynch.” He gestured to Ronan, who looked absurdly red. Adam turned back. “Excuse him, he gets nervous around new people.”

“Your brothers were here a couple days ago, Mr. Lynch. There are just a few menial decisions that need to be made and some papers that need to be discussed regarding coverage details and Venue Users Insurance.”

When the lady, who’d introduced herself as Camille, had noticed Ronan’s complete unwillingness to contribute to discussion, she directed all of her questions and conversation to Adam.

While Adam struggled through meaningless decor decisions, Ronan followed silently. After a while, Camille brought out insurance papers for Ronan, who as a minor was unable to sign, but forced to attentively listen. He signed a different paper confirming details for tomorrow night and following a few moments of small talk, Camille encouraged them to take a look at the building before excusing herself to other tasks.

The second she was gone, Adam hissed. “It wouldn’t hurt for you to actually _speak."_

“She’s annoying.”

“Why? Because she’s doing her job?”

Ronan shrugged and started wandering around. Adam, annoyed, reluctantly followed.

“You know Lynch, you’re a fucking piece of-”

“Ronan Lynch,” a loud voice bellowed, interrupting Adam mid-spiel. Both boys looked up, startled, towards a man and a woman who started rushing towards them. Adam glanced at Ronan in bewilderment.

“ _Fuck_ _,_ ” Ronan muttered. “Old family friends. Scary Pleasantville vibes.”

Adam looked at Ronan. _Are we doing this?_

Ronan looked back. _Best get it over with._

Adam stepped closer to Ronan, who plastered on a non-threatening expression, and snaked an arm around his waist. Ronan jumped but said nothing as the couple rapidly approached.

“My word, is that really you, Ronan?” The woman spoke sweetly, red curls framing her small face. The man beside her was balding slightly, dressed in an impeccable suit, flashing a politician’s smile. “You’ve certainly gotten scarier.”

Adam faked a cough to stifle his laughter.

“Oh, hush, Sylvia,” the man teased, “that’s just kids these days.”

“Nice to see you again Mr. and Mrs. Montgomery.” Ronan said, politely. It was the only polite thing Adam had ever heard out of Ronan’s mouth.

“And who’s this?” Mr. Montgomery grumbled, voice gruff as he gestured towards Adam, averting his gaze from the way Adam was touching Ronan. He wasn’t sure if the man was pretending to be deliberately obtuse or if he was just a masochist.

“I’m Adam Parrish.” Adam glanced at Ronan before continuing. “Ronan’s boyfriend.”

“Oh,” Mrs. Montgomery’s voice was squeaky as she spoke. “Well, that’s fine! My friend’s son is gay, you know and he’s a lovely man.”

Adam didn’t bother to correct her. Instead, he nodded awkwardly.

“So,” Mrs. Montgomery asked after a moment. She clasped her hands together, her curls bobbing. “How did you two meet?”

“We’d love to stay and chat, ma’am, but Ronan and I need to go and check into our hotel room.” Adam scavenged his most apologetic expression. He untangled his arm from around Ronan’s waist and patted Ronan’s shoulder empathetically.

“We’ll catch up at the event tomorrow evening, then.” She acquiesced. “You two are coming, right?”

“Of course,” Adam nodded. “We’ll see you then.”

The woman nodded, pleased. Adam’s polite smile disappeared the moment the couple merrily made their way down the hall. He heaved a grand sigh.

“Well, that could’ve been worse.”

“Did you fucking hear that?” Ronan started to speak in a overly high pitched voice, savagely mocking. “My friend’s son is gay and he’s not completely evil!”

“Christ,” Adam murmured in agreement, flabbergasted at the ignorance. “Imagine what she would’ve said if she knew I was bisexual.”

Ronan didn’t respond. Adam glanced at his expression which was a complicated mix of emotions he couldn’t quite place. He wanted Ronan to say something _back._ He wanted Ronan to say something. He wanted Ronan.

“Let’s get out of here. This place is fucking creepy.” Ronan sniped and Adam didn’t object.

 

* * *

 

The ride to the hotel was masked in a weird silence save for the sporadic directions Adam gave while using Google Maps on Ronan’s phone. They found the place relatively easily.

It was a large, 5-star hotel that Ronan expected. He had stayed in hotels like these all the time when the Lynches had travelled together. The way Adam’s eyes lit up as they made their way down the grand entrance towards the service desk was telling. The carpet was decorated in intricate designs and above the service desk was a massive chandelier that sparkled obnoxiously. Adam stared wide-eyed at the luxurious paintings illuminated around the massive room, each framed in what looked like gold. Though Adam was carrying a worn bag with a massive hole that threatened to spill out its contents if he wasn’t careful and his attire couldn’t have cost more than $20, Ronan couldn’t help but think that this place wasn’t good enough for him. That Adam didn’t belong here. It had nothing to do with wealth. This beauty that surrounded them was superficial, so staunchly presented in arrogance whereas Adam was so much more than that. He was soft, ethereal beauty that was crafted from the Earth herself, not the manufactured plastic that adorned the walls.

Ronan wished Adam knew this, that Adam saw himself the way Ronan did. The way that Blue or Gansey or Noah did. That the assholes at Aglionby were all spoiled dicks who couldn’t help but privately admit that Adam was brilliant.

Ronan thought about earlier when Adam’s hand found its way along Ronan’s waist, like it belonged there, like they were two pieces that fit just right. He thought he might’ve combusted from the touch alone. Ronan stared at where Adam was at the counter, getting their room that Declan had already pre-booked for them. It didn’t matter if Adam was bi, Ronan thought viciously, he had effectively ruined whatever chance he had with Adam after forcing him to masquerade as fake boyfriends for the weekend. He ruined this before he knew he even had a chance. He should’ve fucking asked Gansey but he knew that he didn’t want to have Gansey here, he wanted _Adam._

“Lynch,” Adam’s face was slightly tinged red. “Did you know your brother booked us the fucking penthouse suite?”

“Yeah, he’s a dick like that.”

“There’s an invisible audio system. The room has a fucking jacuzzi and a mini library. Jesus Christ.”

“If you spend the weekend reading a bunch of dumbass books I’m sending you back and I’ll suffer the consequences myself.”

They made their way into the elevator. Ronan’s suitcase bumped over the delicate tiled floor. He felt a vindictive satisfaction when he left faint trails of scratches. They went to the top floor, after swiping their key-card and the elevator doors opened to the massive expanse of their room. Room wasn’t really the appropriate term.

Ronan had to admit it was impressive. He heard Adam’s sharp intake of breath. He wasn’t sure if Adam was awed or disgusted at the extravagance. It was probably both. The mouth of the room opened up to a grand area with a massive T.V screen in the center and ornate furniture circled around. There was a doorway that led to the bedroom, a massive bed situated in the middle with a second T.V. Ronan paused to look at the huge bathroom, where there was a bath, two showers and the jacuzzi. This must’ve cost a fucking fortune. He wasn’t sure where Adam was as he scoured the area but he heard hushed swearing periodically. He strained to hear ‘fuck’ drag itself out of Adam’s mouth, the word dripping in Adam’s sweet accent.

He ended up finding Adam. Ronan saw him through the sliding glass doors that led to a grandiose balcony. Ronan could see the massive buildings and skyscrapers that outlined where Adam stood. He observed the way Adam’s back muscles shifted under the loose material of his shirt, the way his arms flexed as he gripped the railing. The sky had dipped to a soft pink tinge that highlighted Adam’s hair. _Jesus fucking Christ._

Ronan set his luggage near the foot of the bed, next to Adam’s bag and joined him on the terrace. Ronan rolled his eyes where he noticed that Adam was already holding a fucking book.

“Ronan,” Adam’s voice was strange. “I don’t - I shouldn’t be here. You should’ve brought fucking Gansey, he’s the one who stays at places like this.” Ronan frowned when Adam turned, looking conflicted. “I’m not… like this,” Adam gestured wildly around him, “I don’t have all this goddamn money to waste on a fucking penthouse suite to make a damn point.”

“I didn’t want to bring Gansey.” Ronan’s throat was dry. Adam looked frustrated. Insecure. Ronan wanted to shake Adam and tell him that he was better than this, that he deserved to sleep in a fucking comfortable bed that had too many pillows. He wanted to hold his hand and cup his cheek and reassure him until he believed it.

“Why?” Adam’s voice was raw.

_Because it’s always been you, Adam. There’s never been anyone else. No one’s even stood a fucking chance next to you._

“Because you’re the one I want here pretending to be my dumbass boyfriend.”

“This place is-” Adam broke off.

“This place is for rich assholes who waste their money on shit that doesn’t make them happy. Like Declan.” Ronan said, voice volatile. “You’re better than them. Us. Whatever. You deserve all that you want, Parrish. I’m forcing you to do all this crap this weekend so let’s just enjoy this, okay?”

“Okay.” Adam responded, quietly. “And you’re not forcing me to do anything. I’m capable of making my own decisions.”

“Okay. Whatever.” But whatever didn’t really suffice. “Now I’m fucking starving. Throw that book away and let's eat.”

Adam rolled his eyes but pulled out a pamphlet that was folded in his pocket. “Well, there are a few places nearby that we could go to.”

“Fuck that.” Ronan said. “ _Room service."_ He stressed. “It’s all inclusive.”

They ended up ordering plates of chicken strips, 2 side orders of fries, massive burgers and two ice cold cokes. They were splayed along the couches where servers dropped off their dishes and left them to their own devices.

They ended up watching movies together. Ronan chose an absurdly violent action movie to watch first while Adam picked a psychological thriller that he found mildly interesting to watch next. They made sarcastic comments throughout the films, arguing occasionally and exploring the massive suite. Ronan purposely made stupid jokes that made Adam lose his mind, hands clasped around his stomach as helpless wails of laughter escaped. The pride, the contentment, that rushed through him at making Adam look like _that_ _,_ was better than any rush he got speeding down the streets after hours.

Adam ended up leaving to shower. When he waltzed out of the bathroom after a staggering half hour later, hair still wet and dripping, dressed in a pair of old sweats and a thin shirt, Ronan awkwardly rushed into the bathroom to avoid staring.

Afterwards, they were both forced to address the awkward conversation regarding sleeping arrangements. The fact that there was only one bed had not escaped Ronan.

“There’s only fifty other couches to crash on. It’s fine, Lynch.”

“No, you’re sleeping on the bed. I’ll take the fucking couch.”

“Your brother is one who’s paying for the room. You take the bed.”

“I’m the reason you need to be here in the first place. You take the goddamn bed.”

Adam sighed, exasperated. “Why don’t we both just sleep on the bed. It’s massive enough anyways. 5 people could fit on that thing no problem.”

It was a bold statement. Ronan felt himself flushing despite himself. In all truth, the couches were comfortable and it shouldn’t have been such a big deal if one of them had to crash there.

Still Ronan found himself nodding. All casual. “Fine.”

“Do you want to head to bed now..?” Adam asked.

“Yeah, I’m beat.” Ronan awkwardly stretched his arms. _Real convincing, Lynch, very smooth._

They ended up on opposite ends of the bed, far away enough that a third person could have fit in between them. Even at St. Agnes, they slept closer together. This felt different because they were on the same bed. And it might’ve been the fact that they were supposed to be fake boyfriends.

“‘Night, Lynch.”

“Whatever, Parrish.” Ronan grumbled, flicking off the lamp. “Goodnight.” He added.

Despite the nerves, despite the overwhelming realization that he and Adam Parrish were sharing a blanket, the strange tingling in his chest, Ronan somehow managed to fall asleep.

 

* * *

 

The room was bright. They left the drapes open so sunlight poured in through the window, blanketing the bedroom in a soft, rose golden warmth. Adam was gently pulled back into consciousness. He refused to open his eyes, he felt too comfortable. He sighed, nuzzling his face into the crook of someone’s neck, tightening his hold around their -

Wait.

Adam’s eyes ripped open. The blanket was discarded, crumpled near the foot of the bed so all was visible. His right arm was wound loosely around Ronan’s waist, who’s back was pressed to Adam’s chest. Adam’s cheek was pressed against the back of Ronan’s neck, so much so that he could feel the thin bristles of Ronan's buzz cut brushing against the arch of his brow. Even more mortifying, tendrils of vines were wrapped around their bodies, tying them closer together. The more Adam stared, horrified, face an unhealthy shade of red, tiny flowers began blooming, decorating the vines in a plethora of exotic flowers. Christ, christ, _christ_ _._ He was doing this. The vines whirled around their entangled legs. How the hell was Ronan sleeping through this? _Go away_ _,_ Adam thought viciously, he tried to shake the vines off with a nod of his head. They just wrapped around them more.

“Lynch,” Adam hissed. He started disentangling himself from Ronan.

“Hmm?” Ronan hummed, dreamily.

“Lynch wake up. There’s fucking moss on the sheets.”

“What?” Ronan groaned drearily. He cracked his eyes open as the warmth suddenly pulled away. “What the hell?”

Adam watched as Ronan sat up and zeroed in on how close they were. Adam’s face felt too hot. “I must’ve moved while I was sleeping…” Adam trailed off, scratching the back of his neck. “And Cabeswater’s-”

“A fucking asshole.” Ronan easily brushed off the vines which had stopped growing. The bed was covered. This was going to be difficult to explain to room service. “Ugh, what time is it?”

Adam glanced at the clock. “Almost ten.”

Ronan blearily rubbed his face. “T minus 7 hours.”

“You have a countdown?” Adam mused. His hands were fidgety, cupping a stray flower that had budded off from the vines. It was a deep familiar cerulean colour.

“Of course.”

“Dramatic loser.” Adam huffed.

They both seemed eager to forget the morning’s events.

Adam brushed off most of the bits of vines, internally cursing out Cabeswater, while Ronan left to shower again. They spent the rest of the day lounging around the suite, ordering in a late breakfast. Ronan refused to call it brunch. Adam spent some time in the library. He needed some space to himself, away from Ronan and silently prepared himself for the evening. He picked up a stray novel with a worn spine and curled up on the chair nearest to the fire place. He wasn't sure how long he was in there until Ronan gently knocked on the wall with his knuckle to alert Adam of his presence.

“We should probably start getting ready. Matthew’s already hounding me about making sure we’re on time.”

Adam closed the book, remembering the page number and placed it back on the shelf. Ronan had already laid their suits out on the bed. Adam couldn’t help but note that they matched. Adam’s suit, which was visibly slimmer, was a simple dark suit. Ronan’s was similar except the shirt underneath the jacket was the same black as the rest of the suit while Adam’s was a classic white. On the right side of the jacket there was a pocket that held a handkerchief the same shade as Adam’s tie. Adam delicately pulled the tie from his bag.

“I wasn’t sure if it was going to wrinkle.”

“Dream shit doesn’t wrinkle.” It’s why Ronan had packed them inside his suitcase instead of carrying them around on hangers.

Adam took his suit to change in the bathroom while Ronan changed in the bedroom. Adam still felt warm from the morning and strangely flustered around Ronan. He took his time slipping on the flawless material. It fit perfectly. He knotted his tie, running the otherworldly material through his fingertips, making sure everything was immaculate. He ran his fingers along his hair, using some cheap gel he purchased beforehand to awkwardly style it. After a few moments of not knowing what he was doing, he gave up.

He felt like a kid playing dress up.

Vaguely, as he vainly looked at himself in the mirror, he thought about how he finally looked worthy of Ronan’s affections. Dressed like this, he might be able to be impressive. He crumpled his discarded clothes in a messy pile.

“Are you finished?” Adam asked through the door.

“Finished ages ago Parrish,” he heard Ronan swear. “If I could just get this fucking tie-”

Adam opened the door and exited the bathroom. He couldn’t keep his eyes off of Ronan who was struggling in the center of the room. Despite the frantic expletives falling from his lips, he looked impeccable in his suit. His sharp features were amplified paired with the dark formal attire. Adam shamelessly thought that Ronan looked quite handsome in his suit. Beautiful. Every single synonym that Adam could think of, Ronan embodied.

“You’re hopeless Lynch.” Adam said, after a moment of catching his breath. He needed to _breathe._  “Let me.”

He walked towards Ronan who looked awestruck. Adam relished in the feeling of being able to impress Ronan Lynch of all people. He untied the horrible job Ronan had done and began to properly retie it. Adam forced himself to not look at Ronan’s face but he was aware that Ronan was staring. His fingers stuttered along the silky material and when he finished, straightening the tie as a last resort to keep touching Ronan, he slowly pulled away.

He looked to Ronan who was already looking back. He swallowed thickly. “There.”

“Thanks.” Ronan’s voice sounded just as parched. “We should probably-”

“-leave. Right.” Adam tossed Ronan the car keys, pocketing the keycard.

 

* * *

 

 

The drive was too quick. In record time they arrived at the hall.

Adam looked over at Ronan who was frozen at the sight of the entrance. There were crowds of people milling around the front lawn spilling from the hall, sipping at fanciful glasses of expensive wine and lavished in suits and dresses that would’ve made Adam cringe if he knew how much they cost. He felt inherently like he didn’t belong in this crowd even dressed up. Ronan was significantly paler, his back uncharacteristically stiff. Adam looked to Ronan, catching the other’s gaze before quietly offering a hand. A moment of brief hesitation flickered over Ronan’s features before he reached for Adam’s outstretched hand, palms brushing against palms, interlocking their fingers together. The warmth of skin danced between them, fingertips brushing knuckles, the drag of Adam’s infamous calloused palms almost overwhelming. Adam heard a sharp intake of breath from Ronan but before he had the chance to analyze it, Ronan started the treacherous journey towards the entrance.  

“Let's get this fucking over with Parrish.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please, let me know what you thought! 
> 
> QUICK QUESTION for NEXT CHAPTER (only if you're interested, of course!): would you like the last chapter to be heavily focussed on the actual Fake-Dating (which will be more light hearted & awkward than the brief mention in this chapter) or the Love Confessions/First Kiss? 
> 
> PS: the latin phrases in Ronan's dream in english were: “If u want to be loved, love.” & “Love conquers all things. Let us yield to love.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FINALLY DONE. 15K. THIS TOOK FOREVER IM SORRY. BUT I REALLY HOPE U LIKE IT! THANK YOU FOR STICKING AROUND, I APPRECIATE U MORE THAN U KNOW.

Though they had visited the hall the day before, the room had completely transformed into the epitome of excessive wealth. The area was crowded with extravagantly dressed attendants, casually mingling while sipping from absurdly ornamental wine glasses that had gold coloured rims. Adam’s heart pounded in his chest, he wasn’t if it was because he felt massively out of place or if it was the tender kiss of Ronan’s hand in his. Ronan was trailing behind as Adam pulled him through the entrance, polite pleasantries falling from Adam’s lips anytime someone had stared at him for too long. Large round tables were scattered around the room, surrounding a massive dance floor that currently housed long aisles of unopened buffet food. _Jesus,_ Adam thought as he ran his eyes along the elegant decorum hanging from the walls, _Declan didn’t mess around_.

Speaking of, Adam tried to seek Ronan’s brothers out but after a few moments he turned to Ronan in defeat, only to notice that Ronan was staring furtively at their clasped hands. Adam knew his hands probably felt awfully clammy and he resisted the urge to pull them away and wipe them off on his pristine suit.

Adam paused, exhaling a sharp breath and garnering Ronan’s attention. “Any sign of your brothers?”

“Couldn’t tell you. There’s so many damn people everywhere. This is a nightmare.”

Adam silently agreed. “How the hell does Declan know so many people?”

“Fuck if I know. Probably paid them into coming.”

Adam snorted, eyes still avidly observing the room. He turned to Ronan, who was distractedly eyeing the guests and snapped his fingers to catch his attention. He released Ronan’s hand and spoke with severe seriousness.

“Alright Lynch, remember,” Adam said recalling their earlier agreement regarding their fake backstory, “we met via Gansey and started dating a couple months afterwards. Got it?”

“I’m not sure my tiny brain will be able to remember all that information at once.”

Adam glared. “Try to actually socialize tonight, Lynch.”

“My, Ronan!” An old man appeared, brustling towards him, his wife, Adam guessed, in tow. “Is that the same Ronan Lynch who used to steal our strawberries from right out of our yard?”

Ronan grinned as he was pulled into a hug. “The very one.”

 “And who's this?” The woman asked, acknowledging Adam with the tilt of her chin, a warm smile coating her features. The woman’s voice sounded similar to that of royalty, soft tinkling voice that sounded of small chirping bells.

_God it was already starting._

“I’m Adam, Ronan’s boyfriend.” Adam said, shaking the couple’s hands.

“Adam, hmm,” the woman faced Ronan with a faint smile, surprise edged on her words. Her husband was in a similar state. “Ronan’s never mentioned a boyfriend. I’m sure he’s aso failed to mention us. I’m Claire and this is my husband, Steve. Lovely to meet you, Adam.”

“Nice to meet you too, ma’am. You as well, sir.” Adam awkwardly stood, unsure of how to continue conversation, while Ronan seemed to be in a similar state of uncertainty.  

 _Perfect_.  

After a beat, Claire continued. “So, Ronan, how long have you been dating? I had just spoken with your brother last month and he hardly mentioned the news.”

“Uh,” Ronan responded, eloquently.

“It’s pretty recent.” Adam intercepted. “We’d been friends for a while. Still new to all the relationship stuff.”

“Ah,” the woman mused, “well, Steve and I must get going. I do hope we run into each other again tonight. Ronan, you owe me a dance.”

Ronan looked horrified at the thought. Steve laughed. “I feel the same.” He nodded his head in sympathy.

Claire pulled her husband away, likely towards the direction of Ronan’s brothers but Adam let himself revel in the relief of how easy that had gone, rather than following them. Quick, painless, a modicum below awkward. 

Ronan looked to be in a similar state.

“So far so good.” Adam murmured.

“Not for long,” Ronan muttered, eyeing the crowds. “Don’t get your hopes up, Parrish.”

“Around you? Never.”

 

* * *

 

 

“Good God, do my eyes deceive me or is Ronan Lynch attending a formal event?”

Adam’s head reflexively turned to the brazen voice that interrupted their conversation and immediately his eyes fell on a handsome man who looked to be their age. He was tall, with thick ruddy curls and a sharp nose. He was dressed as impeccable as the rest, flaunting a bitingly maroon suit with a dark handkerchief folded in his breast pocket.

Adam looked to Ronan, who appeared slightly uncomfortable, his frown deepening in irritation.

“Fuck off, Bernards.” Ronan spit, rolling his eyes.

“Still as charming as ever.” The man mused, flicking his gaze up and down the length of Ronan’s figure. Adam stiffened as the man blatantly ignored his presence, instead reaching to brush Ronan’s shoulder free of invisible lint. “And all dressed up. You clean up nicely, Lynch.”

A surge of inexplicable anger - no not anger, a mix of unfalteringly annoyance and _something_ \- sprung up in Adam’s chest, causing him to squeeze his hands into fists. White, hot indignation welled up in his stomach at the sight of this random stranger touching Ronan, as if he was allowed the right that Adam had fought tooth and nail for, making him visibly uncomfortable and completely ignoring Adam as if he was too dull to even be acknowledged.

Adam, who had been calculating his movements the entire weekend thus far and had been constantly weighing the pros and cons of his and Ronan’s actions, slung his left arm around Ronan’s lower back and used his right hand to catch Ronan’s, bringing it to his lips to place a searing kiss. Adam tilted his face up, holding Ronan’s hand near his chest.  

“We should probably get to our table before dinner starts.” Adam suggested coyly, leaning into Ronan’s side.

Ronan looked speechless. Adam felt a hint of confidence at being able to instill that look of daze on Ronan’s face, the way his eyes were wide just at the sight of Adam kissing his hand, even though there was a much more ruggedly handsome man standing only a few feet away.  

“Lynch, I didn’t know you were, uh-”

The man sounded unsure, eyes focussed on Adam. It was the first time he had bothered.

“And who are you again?” Adam’s voice was laced in withering contempt, hostile and rough.

“Jonathan William Bernards.” Bernards’ eyebrows jumped in surprise but he quickly hid his reservations, rolling his lips into a devious smirk. Adam thought he was trying too hard to come off as charming when it only made him look creepy. He raised his hand, as if to offer Adam a handshake but Adam kept his palms on Ronan instead until Bernards reluctantly dropped his hand. He did so gracefully, in the same way Gansey would, and mustered up another smile. “Ronan and I, well, we go way back.”

“That’s nice,” Adam said dismissively. He didn’t bother introducing himself.

“Are you two… involved?” Bernards asked in bewilderment.

Adam needed to visibly restrain himself from heaving an exasperated sigh and saying something excessively rude. _Well I don’t know, you just saw me kiss his hand and I’ve currently got an arm around his waist but nah, we’re just really close friends_.

“He’s my boyfriend.” Ronan answered, voice steely and triumphant.

“Well, I’ll be.” Bernards murmured, carefully eyeing Adam. Instinctively Adam thought about how unevenly cropped his hair was, how the left side was slightly longer than the right, his imperfect freckles dusted on imperfect dark skin, the callouses that were scattered on his hands from hard, laborious nights. His suit was the only impeccable thing about him and it wasn’t even his. “And how, might I ask, did you manage to persuade Ronan into willingly attending tonight?    

“I wouldn’t say willingly.” Adam said, dryly. His back was inordinately rigid, shoulders rolled back, hands no longer clutching Ronan but his body still noticeably flushed against his side.

“Lynch is quite the catch. I wish you all the best.” His voice was slightly patronizing, as if he didn’t think Ronan and Adam would last much longer than this conversation.

“Thanks,” Adam said with biting condescension, “but we don’t need it.”

Adam knew he was being unfairly rude but this guy was an asshole and Ronan clearly didn’t have a problem with it.  Adam noted how Ronan’s mouth was curled up in arrogant amusement, refusing to interject.

Bernards hummed, slightly taken aback. His mouth pulled into a halfhearted, malice-ridden grin. “Well I suppose I should get going, I just purchased a new Bugatti Chiron,” he waved his hand as if this wasn’t a 2.5 million dollar vehicle, “and I promised a friend that I’d give them a look.” He turned to Ronan, his eyes flashing, “Ronan, always a pleasure to see you. I’ve purchased the most exemplary lodge in Rome, perhaps we can take a visit to my cabin this summer.” 

“Perhaps not.” Adam muttered. Ronan’s eyes widened in unveiled hilarity.

“I’ll take my leave then.” Bernard said before disappearing among the flair of sumptuous jackets and dresses.

The second he left, Ronan turned on Adam, his voice garbled in surprise and devilish delight. Adam couldn’t help but subtly enjoy putting creeps down that unwantedly hit on his boyfriend.

 _Fake_ boyfriend.  

“What was  _that_ _?_ " 

Adam looked at him with undeterred innocence. “What was what?” He asked, after a moment.

Ronan cackled. “Did you see his fucking face when - Jesus Christ Parrish, you’re a fucking jealous asshole." 

Adam paused. Reflexively he wanted to refuse this idea of being jealous. He hated the thought of being jealous, of being so obvious of his wants, of what he couldn’t have because of who he was and how he was. He needed to remind himself that this wasn’t real, they were _fake_ -dating. He wasn’t jealous, he had no right to be.

So why the hell was he so inexplicably annoyed at the image of Bernards hitting on Ronan?

He felt suddenly too confused, too strange but Ronan was still laughing and Adam didn’t want to ruin this, to overthink every single action.

Adam took a steadying breath, huffing “I’m playing the part of annoyed boyfriend, Lynch. Someone needs to sell it.”

Ronan rolled his eyes.

“Plus that guy was weird. It was the most logical step. Shouldn’t I have been jealous? As your fake-boyfriend.” Adam tacked on.

“No.” Ronan snorted. “He’s a fucking creep.”

Adam wholeheartedly agreed. “Jesus, does that ever actually work? Flashing guys his creepy bird smile, I mean? How do you even know him?”

“His brother was friends with Declan so we’d see each other every couple months for the longest fucking time. And every visit, he’d ask me out and he’d be an obsessive dick about it when I said no.”

“I can’t believe you said no. I mean, he has a Bugatti Chiron.”

Ronan cackled. “What a fucking dick. Talking about cabins and lodges and shit.”

“Right?” Adam rolled his eyes. Typical white rich kid flaunting his excessive wealth that his parents had likely handed to him. “You know,” Adam teased. “I didn’t realize I had competition.”

Ronan opened his mouth and then closed it, deciding against whatever he was about to say, and instead said, “I’m hot shit, Parrish.”

“Should I start trying to woo you? Bring you flowers and chocolates?”

“Why the fuck am I girl?”

Adam snickered, about to mention how Blue would’ve been unamused at this entire conversation or call Ronan out for being the absolute worst, but his gaze strayed over Ronan’s shoulder when he noticed a young figure’s golden hair bobbing in the crowd. Though he had never seen Matthew Lynch in real life, Gansey had shown him vague photos and Adam instantly knew that this was Ronan’s younger brother. The second Adam’s eyes caught on him, Matthew’s head looked up, bright eyes and a brighter smiler immediately recognizing Ronan’s back. He started to jog forward and Adam stepped away from Ronan, whispering a faint warning of ‘incoming’ before Matthew tackled Ronan from behind, causing him to stagger.

“What the - shit, Matthew?” Ronan’s voice sounded lighter already, in the company of the youngest Lynch, who was currently buoying against Ronan’s back.

“Hey Pal.” Matthew’s chin was placed on Ronan’s shoulder, grin stretched brilliantly and revealing dimples in each cheek. Adam couldn’t help but mirror the expression, slightly cast aside as he watched the spectacle.

Matthew pulled away and Ronan whirled around to pull Matthew into a bear hug. 

When they pulled away, Ronan asked, with slightly distaste. “Where’s Declan?”

Matthew shrugged. “I think he went off to find Ashley, we were all suppose to go together but she ended up arriving by herself because she had something else to do. I’ve been looking everywhere for you! I texted only a hundred times.”

Ronan thought of the phone currently housed in his pocket, that Adam had suggested he take with him, currently on silent.

“Turned the ringer off.”

“You’re the worst.” Matthew complained. “I’m your brother.”

“Oh, Jesus,” Ronan sighed and quickly turned to phone on vibrate mode, ignoring the plethora of messages.

Matthew sighed, his eyes lifting and finding Adam’s, who was still awkwardly at the side. If it was possible, Matthew’s smile became even more enthused, gigantic and contagious.

“Is this your boyfriend? Oh my god, I’m sorry. Ronan’s so rude,” Matthew hit Ronan’s arm with vigor, who cursed at the suddenness of it. “You couldn’t even introduce us?”

“I was too busy being tackled.” Ronan muttered. “Matthew, this is my uh, boyfriend, Adam, and Adam, this is my younger, hell-child of a brother, Matthew. 

Matthew swiped at Ronan’s arm again before offering Adam an excited handshake. “Wait, you mean you’re Adam? Like, Adam Parrish?”

“Uh, yes?” Adam’s voice slightly dropped in confusion, releasing Matthew’s hand.

Matthew grinned. “I should’ve guessed you were dating _Adam_ , hey Pal?” He nudged Ronan’s elbow before turning to Adam to stage whisper. “He talks about you all the time.”

Adam smiled loosely, looking up at Ronan suggestively. “Is that right?”

“Matthew, shut the fuck up. No, I don’t.”

“Kind’ve sounds like you do Lynch.”

Ronan’s mouth flattened into an irritated line. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

Matthew looked gleeful. “Don’t worry, Adam. This is how Ronan flirts. He’s hopeless at it.”

“I don’t fucking flirt.” Ronan looked disgusted at just uttering the word. “I have better things to do.”

“Right, it must be difficult finding time in your busy schedule to do things. You know, when you’re not obsessively talking about me with your brothers, I mean.” Adam sported a cheshire grin, eyebrows arched as he relentlessly teased Ronan alongside Matthew.

“You can walk home.” Ronan grunted but it was an empty threat.

Adam couldn’t help the bubble of laughter that escaped. Everything was just too absurd. Joking along with Matthew and Ronan as if he belonged there, teasing Ronan as if they were actually dating, dressed in a fancy suit he could pretend, if only for a few moments, was his own.

Adam jumped when Matthew pulled him into a casual side hug, slinging an arm around his shoulder as if they hadn’t just met. If Matthew noticed Adam’s reaction, he chose to ignore it, smiling gracelessly and tilting his head. Adam crinkled his nose as stray golden curls brushed it and Matthew’s bony wrist was digging into Adam’s side but the gesture was heartwarming and the slight dread of meeting Ronan’s brothers emptied from his stomach.

“Don’t worry Adam,” Matthew had the same eyes as his brother, a plethora of ocean blues painted together, “you can come back with me and Dec and Ashley.”

“Who’s joining Ashley and I?”

Declan strode forward, adjusting one of his cuff links before joining their huddle. He looked the same as Adam remembered: broad shoulders, severe eyes and dark curly hair. He was wearing a polite smile, dressed in a strictly grey suit,

Matthew pulled away from Adam to speak with Declan. “Where’s Ashley?”

“She’s in the bathroom, I told her I’d meet with her afterwards and make our rounds. Ronan,” Declan nodded his head in polite acknowledgement, Ronan’s mouth pulled in a stiff line, before he turned to Adam. His eyebrows jumped in surprise, clearly recognizing Adam from their vague passings and stretched his hand out. “And Adam Parrish. I wasn’t aware that you were dating my brother.”

Adam shook Declan’s hand firmly. “It’s fairly new.” He glanced at Ronan, who resembled a statue, his shoulders rigid with a defensive curl of his mouth. His hands were formed into fists and whichever easy mirth he had before had been strained to the point past awkward silences. His eyes were narrowed, readying himself for a fight, his jaw jumping as Declan spoke. Adam moved closer to him. He was unsure if Ronan would appreciate any sort of PDA in front of his brother so he simply stood next to him, forming the impenetrable wall of Ronan and Adam. It was just this: Adam’s silent, unquestionable, tenacious support and whatever came next.

Declan heaved a dry sigh at their defensive stances. “Jesus, I don’t know what Ronan has told you about me but I’m not about to fight you both in the middle of a party.” He turned to face Ronan. “I don’t _care_ who you date.”

“Right,” Ronan snarled. Adam shifted so that their elbows were brushing.

Declan scrubbed at his jaw in subtle frustration. Ronan refused to elaborate and the group delved into a tense period of silence. Adam’s mouth was dry, his mind running through various conversation starters but coming to a dead end.

Finally, Matthew - thank God for Matthew - broke the silence with wilted cheer. “When did you two get together? You guys have been friends for the longest time, right?”

“Uh, yeah,” Adam responded embarrassingly fast, snatching the opportunity for conversation. “Gansey introduced us. We didn’t really get along at first but, uh, after enough times of us hanging out with Gansey, it just sort’va happened.”

Matthew nodded emphatically. “Ronan used to complain about you a lot.”

“Thanks Lynch.” Adam said dryly. 

“You were a pain in my ass.” Ronan grumbled. 

“He didn’t mean it,” Matthew said, “I can tell. He really liked you. I’m so glad you two are dating.”

Adam faltered. He wasn’t sure how much of this was fake anymore.

He had noticed Ronan’s brief glances, his strange gestures, the small gifts he left littered around Adam’s apartment, left on Adam’s car seat. Adam couldn’t afford to let himself ponder the idea, afraid that it was his vanity creating moments that weren’t there, imagining feelings that didn’t exist. Ronan wouldn’t have asked to be fake-boyfriends if he genuinely wanted to date, right? This was a fictitious, laughable excuse of a relationship. Adam’s chest brutally squeezed but he made himself steady because he needed to be grounded. Gently, subconsciously, he felt leaves brushing the back of his mind, a hint of moss clouding his senses, bringing him back to the present. He felt less unsure, less alone like this.  

Adam’s mouth turned into a small, genuine smile. “Well, I like him too.” He peered at Ronan, who was already staring at Adam and continued, this time comfortable enough with intertwining their hands together. Ronan took it with care and Matthew stared in utter delight, “he’s less of an asshole than he wants people to believe.”

Ronan snorted. “Just getting you to trust me so you’ll let your guard down and I can shave your head.”

“Trying to get me the Ronan Lynch look?” Adam mused.

“He’s determined to be as unsentimental as possible.” Matthew grinned, bumping Ronan’s hip.

“Typical,” Adam huffed in amusement even though it was hardly typical of Ronan at all.

“So,” Declan said, elongating the vowel, jumping back into conversation, “how did you two,” he gestured vaguely at their intertwined hands, “get together?" 

Declan spoke awkwardly, a strange way to describe the man who had previously looked as intimidating and formal as one could get. It was clear he didn’t necessarily care about the details of Ronan’s ‘relationship’ but he was trying. He blundered forward.

“Oh, we don’t want to bore you with that.” Adam smiled in an attempt to be charming. He wasn’t very charming, not like Gansey, so he probably looked more graceless than anything else.

“Wait,” Matthew excitedly clasped his hands together. “I wanna hear the story! How did it happen?”

“Gansey introduced us and a couple months later we decided to date.” Adam responded, perfectly practiced as they discussed.

“Give me details, like, who asked who out? How did you two _get_ together?”

“Uh, we,” Adam fumbled. “I asked Ronan out. He was too much of a loser to do it himself. I just, uh, asked him one night. And he said yes.”

Matthew frowned. “No I mean, like, _how_ did it happen?.”

“He just told you how it fucking happened.” Ronan grumbled. 

“Set the mood.” Matthew waved his hands animatedly. “Were you two alone? Was Ronan an asshole about it?”

Adam’s gaze briefly flickered to Declan, who was focussed on Ronan and looked exceedingly suspicious. Adam’s brain faltered, belatedly thinking of a response. It was stupid to think that their practice answer would be satisfactory, _of course_ Ronan’s brothers wanted details. Adam felt panicked. “Well, we-" 

“It was after one of Adam’s late shifts at Boyds, where he works as a mechanic part time,” Ronan said. Adam looked at him, startled because they hadn’t planned anything than their generic answer, but Ronan avoided eye contact, focussed on Matthew. “He was dead tired, typically, so I took advantage of his lowered defenses and we went out to eat. We drove to this small diner, the one that - that mom and dad used to take us to and we ate the greasiest shit. When we were driving back, Parrish told me to pull over and I pulled into an empty lot. It was dark as fuck and we could see the stars through the windshield and he asked me if I wanted to go on a date.” Ronan paused. Adam was invested, following each word. He hadn’t known Ronan had put so much thought in this. “And I - I thought Adam was fucking with me, you know, maybe he was all delirious from never sleeping. But I said yes, for the hell of it, and here we are.” Ronan’s voice wavered, his cheeks inordinately red. He looked to Matthew and snapped. “That enough detail for you?" 

Declan looked strange, his eyes set on Ronan, fabricated boredom masking vague interest. Matthew looked like it was Christmas. “Oh, that’s fantastic, I’m so happy for you two.”

Adam digested Ronan’s story with difficulty. It was one thing fumbling around a makeshift story of their fake relationship. This felt different. Adam swallowed.

“So was that considered your first date? Or not because Adam asked after it happened?”

“Well,” Ronan started.

“It wasn’t.” Adam jumped in. “I was - I was pretty nervous about Ronan saying yes and I had flowers delivered to Monmouth the next day. Ronan was completely awful about it,” Adam smiled, rolling his eyes fondly, “he was so awkward and I’m pretty sure he fed them to Chainsaw. But I picked him up later that day and we went to dinner and a movie and -”

“And Parrish complained about how unrealistic the plot of the movie was the entire way back.” Ronan continued, unprompted. Adam looked to him, in surprise. He felt his cheeks heat up. “He dropped me off back at Monmouth, where Gansey was waiting up like the fucking overbearing mother he is.”

“Did you two kiss?” Matthew asked, delighted.

Ronan was red at this point and stuttered uselessly. Adam felt inexplicably nervous but he thought of what he would’ve done, had this been real, had he been given the opportunity to genuinely take Ronan out on a date.

“I walked him to the door, like a perfect gentleman,” Ronan snorted as Adam grinned, “and Ronan was painfully nervous so I kissed him on the cheek.”

“Then what!” Matthew squealed.

“Jesus, Matt,” Declan said. He looked awkward listening to this. “Are you writing a book? Leave them alone.”

Matthew pouted. “I’m just curious.” He looked to Adam. “Ronan doesn’t date _anyone_. You’re the first.”

Adam knew this, or rather, he assumed. He glanced at Ronan, whose expression was as stiff as stone. Adam decided to bear some of the weight. “I haven’t really dated much either, maybe a handful of girls in middle school. Ronan’s my first real relationship though.”

“I thought you were gay?”

“Christ, Matthew.” Declan sighed.

“It’s fine.” Adam said, unbothered. “I’m bisexual, so I like girls and guys.”

“Oh,” Matthew conceded. “Cool.”

“Okay, enough interrogating Adam.” Ronan huffed.

“Agreed.” Declan murmured, looking at his phone. “I’m going to find Ashley. We’re sitting at table 8 if you haven’t already found our seats.”

Declan left as quickly as he spoke, hardly even sparing them a second glance.

“So,” Matthew continued, “how long have you two been together?”

Ronan ran a ragged hand over his buzzcut. “Good God, Matt. No more questions.”

Matthew looked put out. “I just want to know about your boyfriend. Is that such a crime? Is being a well-meaning brother so terrible?”

“Well meaning my ass.” Ronan muttered.

Adam chuckled at the blatant display of affection between the Lynch brothers. Just from the instances that Ronan had spoken of his younger brother, Adam had crafted Matthew as the human embodiment of sunshine. Matthew didn’t disappoint. With him, Ronan softened, his words gentler and stance more relaxed.

It was a good look on him.

“Oh, Ronan, did you see Suzanne tonight yet? I told her about Adam and she was really excited to meet him.” He looked to Adam in reassurance, “she’s super nice. I think I’m gonna try to find her, she must be around here somewhere.” He murmured absently, “Catch you guys at dinner?”

“Sure.” Ronan responded.

Matthew offered Ronan a fist bump and then turned to Adam for a hug. Adam was surprised again, at the outright affection the youngest Lynch was showing, the sudden warmth of being tackled in a loose hug. Matthew pulled away, cheery smile and dimples making a reappearance, jacket slightly rumpled at the impromptu touch. “Make sure Ronan doesn’t break anything. Last time we came to one of these, he broke a whole tray of wine glasses. Don’t ask.”

Adam’s lips split into an inescapable chuckle. “Of course he did.”

“ _Matthew_ ,” Ronan glowered but the youngest Lynch was already skipping away, getting lost in the crowd, golden curls disappearing.

Adam watched at Matthew left, taking a few moments to himself, revelling in the sweet gesture of Matthew’s honest demeanor. He felt the cold residual path of guilt carving its way along his skin, up his throat. Matthew was ecstatic that Ronan was dating, had practically welcomed Adam into the family. Adam didn’t want to think of how Matthew would respond when him and Ronan inevitably ‘broke up.’

He turned to Ronan, who looked to be in a similar state of disarray. Adam couldn’t only imagine how Ronan felt about this entire facade, this _lie_.  

Adam thought of the story Ronan had created, the recount of how they had first started dating. It almost felt real. Too many nights had Adam been up late at Boyds, exhausting and working, with Ronan stomping in offering Adam food after his shift. Some nights he wasn’t tired enough to drop his headstrong stubbornness but other nights he accepted. They ate, they talked and joked and so many times it could’ve ended with the whisperings of confessions, of promises. It didn’t, it never did. Did Ronan want that?

Did Adam? 

Was it possible? 

He internally scolded himself. This was not the time for an existential crisis.

“That could’ve gone worse.” Adam exhaled a relieved breath. Anything to break the tension. “How did I manage with the whole meeting-the-family?”

“Well, Declan didn’t throw a tantrum and Matthew wants to create a fucking scrapbook of us.”

“So I’d say we did pretty okay then.” His voice dragging back to normalcy. “That was,” Adam paused, evening his words to mimic nonchalance, “quick thinking with the story thing.”

“Yeah,” Ronan’s voice was rough, “well you clearly weren’t going to save the day." 

“Hey I helped out.” Adam responded indignantly.

Ronan snorted. “Walking me to my door, Parrish? Like a gentleman? Sending me flowers? I really am the goddamn girl in the relationship, aren’t I?”

“Don’t be such an asshole.” Adam rolled his eyes. “Flowers are my signature move.” 

“Wow, reduce me to _all_ your past girlfriends. Cool.”

“Oh, Jesus, flowers are a nice gesture.” Adam huffed. “And I haven’t had that many girlfriends.”

“Whatever.”

“Alright, Lynch, you think you’re so good at-”

“Heads up,” Ronan interrupted, voice low, “Suzanne is making her way over. Really excitable, was one of my parents closest friends, a _lot_ of dogs.”

Adam’s eyes widened. “Can we visit them?”

“Parrish. Focus.”

Adam nodded quickly, gathering the bouts of random facts.

The woman, who was undoubtedly Suzanne, approached the boys. She was older, Adam guessed in her late forties, and was dressed up in the most casual attire he’d seen all night. She wore a simple yellow dress, with a plethora of home-made bracelets along her wrist. Instantly, Adam felt charmed by the woman.

“Ronan, it’s been _ages_ ,” Suzanne pulled Ronan into a hug. Adam stood off to the side and observed the clear familiarity between the two individuals. They were murmuring to each other, Ronan slightly red before they pulled away.

Suzanne continued speaking, her voice sounded like the tinkling of wine glasses being clinked together. “I had just bumped into Matthew a few moments ago. My, he has grown up hasn’t he?” The woman turned her warm eyes to Adam, smiling brightly, “and you must be the boyfriend I’ve heard so much about. Adam, was it?”

Adam smiled, slightly abashed when shaking her hand. “Yes, nice to meet you ma’am.”

“Oh, you must keep hold of this one, Ronan.” Her eyes glimmered. “Such kind manners. I’m Suzanne, I’m one of the ladies that’s watched this one grow up.” She nudged Ronan’s chest.

Adam nodded fervently. “Ronan’s mentioned you as well." 

“Good things I hope.” She smiled. “You can never tell with this one.”

Ronan grinned. “I was just mentioning how you’re a crazy dog lady.”

She rolled her eyes in amusement. “Having 3 dogs is hardly crazy. They’re better than children, I’ll tell you that much. But enough about me,” Suzanne cooed, “how did you two meet?”

Adam looked to Ronan who held back a ferocious eye roll at constantly being asked the same tedious questions, as if he hadn’t expected old family friends to be insanely curious. Adam smirked, a mischievous idea taking place in his mind. If they were going to be interrogated the entire night they could at least try to have fun with it.

“Well,” Adam mused, his arms moving buoyantly, “Ronan really couldn’t keep his eyes off me. I noticed him staring. He’s horrible at being clever about it.” Adam tucked an arm around Ronan’s waist, each touch still new despite touching Ronan all night, pressing his cheek against Ronan’s shoulder in affection. “But then he showed up at my door, with thirty roses - at _least_ \- in each hand and serenaded me until I agreed.”

Suzanne’s hands were clasped over her mouth, bracelets jingling. Her eyes were glittering under the dim lights. “That’s so romantic.”

Adam smiled smugly in Ronan’s direction. “Isn’t it just?”

“I didn’t know my Ronan had it in him.”

“He’s the human form of a cheesy teen romcom.”

Ronan glared but his cheeks were horribly flushed.

“I’m sorry, he gets grumpy when he hasn’t eaten.” Adam said, solemnly. He patted Ronan’s shoulder for emphasis, stifling his laughter with deliberate coughs.

Suzanne hummed. “Well aren’t you two just the cutest. I must go say hi to Declan but you better leave without giving your old woman a goodbye.” She raised a friendly eyebrow in Adam’s direction, “you neither.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Ronan simpered.  

Adam felt that strange warmth that he was slowly becoming familiar with as the night progressed. These people, who had hardly known Adam, already cared for him, wanting _him_ to say goodbye before he left. It was as disbelieving as it was kind and Adam smiled with a sort earnestness he had never experienced before.

“Of course, ma’am.”

“ _Suzanne_.” She corrected, tapping Adam’s nose.

“Suzanne.” Adam amended.

“You kids don’t get too rowdy tonight, I know wine servers are circling this place like hawks.” 

“You’re taking the fun out of these lame-ass parties.” Ronan complained, his mouth in a sharp grin.

Suzanne waved empathetically, faux exasperation painted in the gesture as she made her leave. “And Adam, sweetheart,” she called, “please do send me a video if Ronan decides to serenade you again. I would kill to see that.”

Adam cackled, emphatically agreeing as she walked away.

The second Suzanne left, Ronan gripped Adam’s shoulder and tugged him around, so that they were facing one another. Ronan’s face was incredibly flushed, eyes narrowed in a ferocious glare. Adam couldn’t help but wail out a helpless bark of laughter.

“You think you’re real fucking funny.”

Adam grinned. “I’m _hilarious_." 

“Oh, fuck you.”

“You can’t scare me with your foul mouth, Lynch. You’re red all over.”

At this, if it was possible, Ronan reddened further, face a glorious crimson. “Alright, Parrish,” Ronan muttered, eyes darkened; he looked daring, staring at Adam like that with sharp bold words no doubt saturating his tongue. “I’ll play your game.”

“Try to keep up.” Adam teased. He quirked a brow, glancing over at Ronan and silently challenging him.

Throughout the night, their interactions with couples became more lighthearted and rambunctious. Adam had made it his personal mission to make Ronan flustered, adding more romantic gestures to each retelling of their first date and how they met. Ronan, on the other hand, had begun one upping their next story from the previous one, making each one more elaborate than before.

It became less of a ruse to convince people of their relationship and rather a night of silly stories, light touches and soft laughter.

And when Ronan was in the midst of a rather ridiculous recount of their ‘first date,’ Adam couldn’t look away.  

 

* * *

 

After an hour of circling the room and socializing, Ronan decided he needed a break and left Adam in the midst of five middle aged woman fawning over him, under the pretense of getting drinks for the both of them. Adam had looked at Ronan sharply when he had announced that he was leaving and Ronan grinned, cheerily waving goodbye as Adam was flooded with compliments.

As he walked away, he made a last minute decision of holing up in the solace of the back corner of the room, away from the crowd of guests, rather than fetching their drinks. He needed a minute to think. From where he was angled, on the higher end of the slightly sloped landing, he could faintly see Adam amongst the bodies. It was almost impossible to avoid him; especially with the way his suit was draped over his figure, tight around his biceps, the navy of his tie bringing out the sapphire of his eyes. Tonight he didn’t need to pretend that he was looking anywhere else than the crowning image of his boyfriend. For a moment, for the slightest second, Ronan let himself revel in his tangle of emotions. The touches, the inside jokes, the way they had easily worked together while they talked with others set a fire inside Ronan’s chest. The way Adam had finished Ronan’s sentences, completed his make-shift stories, made his heart all the more present in his chest, thumping so wildly that he was surprised no one else had noticed. He had had no alcohol tonight, he had been forced to socialize with rather boring acquaintances of Declan’s and yet, he felt more alive than ever. He felt like he was cruising down the dark length of an empty highway, accelerating viciously while the base of his music thrummed wildly, windows all open and allowing the hurricane of wind inside. The pitch black sky swallowed up by millions of stars the same way freckles adorned Adam’s skin.

 _Fuck,_ he was in too fucking deep.   

This fake- _whatever_ it was had made the impossible even more impossible.

He knew Adam would never like him like that, especially not after being put through this uncomfortable situation. Ronan couldn’t blame him. He decided that if he never got the miraculous experience of what it’d be like to genuinely date Adam then he’d enjoy as much of this as he could.

He leaned against the dark wall, avoiding the decor obnoxiously strung along the otherwise bare surface and crossed his arms over his chest.

“Why am I not surprised to find you lurking in a dark corner during one of your brother’s fancy parties?”

Ronan looked over his shoulder at where Suzanne was, completely unperturbed at her hovering behind him.

“Your boyfriend sure is popular over there. You might not want to leave him alone for long. Those ladies look three seconds away from kidnapping him.” Suzanne mused. She had a wine glass in her hand but it looked untouched, the red liquid sloshing around the glass whenever she moved too quick.  

Together they looked at where Adam was surrounded. He looked to be holding his own but his face was abnormally pink, a woman pinching his cheek every few moments. It didn’t look too comfortable considering the ludicrous length of their fake nails. The ladies around him were giggling erratically while Adam spoke, rubbing the back of his neck in a gesture Ronan was familiar with, something that Adam did whenever he felt out of place.

“Sacrificed Adam to the hounds and managed to escape?”

Ronan shook his head. “Just needed a recharge.”

Suzanne crooned, endeared at how Adam offered to hold the ladies drinks while she leant down to fix the seam of her dress. “Where on Earth did you find that one?" 

Ronan felt no need to lie, not to one of the few adults he trusted. “Noticed him the first day he walked into my goddamn latin class. Few months later, Gansey befriended him because _of course_ and the rest is history.”

“You two are quite the talk of the town tonight. I think you’ll be happy to know that Declan is quite annoyed by the all the chatter of you two.” Suzanne tucked an arm around Ronan’s, the same way she would when she’d come to visit back when he was still in diapers. “Aurora would have loved him.”

Ronan stiffened at the mention of his mother. It had been so long since his parents had passed but the aching anguish still managed to linger, invading Ronan’s mind.

“She never knew.” Ronan spoke with unyielding softness. He was staring ahead, unseeingly. “I never got to tell her.”

“Oh, honey, she knew. You may not have been able to say it to her but she knew. And she was proud of you and loved you with all her heart. I’m only sad that she isn’t able to see the confident man you’re becoming. Not sure how she’d feel about your lack of hair, though.” Suzanne poked Ronan’s cheek.

Ronan leaned against her shoulder even though she was almost a foot shorter than him. “I miss her. And dad.”

“Me too. Everyday.”

For a while, they stood there, amongst the crowd of party-goers, stuck in their own thoughts, memories of what seemed to be a lifetime ago. It felt okay being able to talk about them, being able to think of them without completely crumbling. Eventually Suzanne broke the silence, aiming for a more lighthearted topic of conversation. “You know you’ll need to go back eventually. Have you no remorse at seeing your boyfriend flail over there?”

“He’s a lot more capable than you’re giving him credit for.”

“Oh, I don’t doubt it. His hand was rough when we shook hands. I can tell he’s a hard worker.” Suzanne flashed her own pruney fingers, slender and bird-like, showcasing her age if not for the plethora of unique rings dazzling each hand. “You can tell a lot about someone based on their hands.”

Ronan, who had spent copious amounts of time familiarising himself with Adam’s hands, thought that he must’ve been an expert on Adam Parrish if that was true.

“He’s a good one. I can tell and I’m hardly wrong about these kinds of things. He’s got a good heart, just like you. And I’ll have you know that I’m not as easy to trick as you might believe.”

Ronan opened his mouth, ready to spew some sort of apologetic defense but Suzanne held up one single finger, silencing him.   

“I don't know what you two are up to but I do know one thing: love like this is hard to find. You better keep it.”

Ronan couldn’t even deny the L word. He wasn’t sure if he was being painfully obvious or if Suzanne just knew where to look. “I’m trying but I think I might’ve fucked it all over.”

“Get out of your head."

“But it’s so cozy in here.”

“Stop that.” Suzanne pressed a warm hand against Ronan’s cheek. Ronan leaned into the touch, feeling infinitely vulnerable as he looked to her. “You’re going to get lost in there. You know what might help your Adam problem? Actually _speaking_ to one another.”

“It’s hard when we’re constantly being interrupted by assholes who can’t mind their own business.”

Suzanne hummed, her eyes twinkling mischievously. She lifted her wine glass to her lips, taking a quick sip of the red liquid. “If only there was a vacant space for you two to chat.” She grinned. “If only there was a lovely, perpetually empty garden right outside the Hall, surrounded by trees to reserve your privacy. If only.”

And then she was gone, swaying back into the crowd as if she hadn’t obnoxiously planted the seed of an idea in Ronan’s mind. He hadn’t really noticed a garden, his mind too overworked, focussing on the crowds of people at the time and the thought of parading Adam around as his boyfriend taking precedence.

The need to grab Adam pulsed violently in his abdomen. The thought of potentially ruining their friendship, of tearing it all down, for the slimmest thread of possibility was as tempting as it was terrifying.

He strode forward, determined and afraid, his stomach felt as if he had drank an entire tub of wet cement.

As he walked, one of his grade school teachers, who had been close with his parents and had been integral in his life, often finding Ronan’s mischievous nature more hilarious than troublesome, bumped into him. He was the first man Ronan had been introduced to that had been openly gay, married for over 25 years, often talking of his husband in class. It was the simplicity of being able to speak of his husband, the same way a man would of a woman, that had shaken Ronan, that had eased him towards his own acceptance of his sexuality later in life.

Briefly, Ronan had introduced Mr. Clarke to Adam earlier that night.

Mr. Clarke looked like he had somewhere to be, bustling forward, but once he recognized Ronan, he paused. “Ronan! I haven’t seen you all night. How are you holding up?”

Clarke was well aware of Ronan’s aversion to, well, all of this.

“Surviving.”

“That’s my boy.” Clarke grinned. Every few moments his left hand jerked, a telltale tick of his, but Ronan had grown so used to it, it hardly registered. “I do have to run off but that Adam boy is such a charming fellow.”

“I know.” Ronan smiled proudly, slightly bashful. 

He decided that without the watchful eye of his brothers or the speculative gaze of Adam, he was allowed to pretend that he was the proud boyfriend of Adam Parrish. He knew Adam was a miraculous creature of a boy but it was satisfying to watch as the rest of the world, at least the percentage of it stuffed in this room, admired Adam as Ronan did.

“You two are the damn cutest couple here. If Eric was here, he and I would be the cutest, but you two would be a close second.” Clarke winked. It was a funny expression on the old man. “Next time you’re around, we all need to sit down for some drinks. I only had a few minutes with you two before you were all whisked off. I’ll bring Eric too, God knows he’d love to meet the kid who’s stolen that heart of yours.”

“Didn’t know there was a heart to steal.” Ronan joked. Self deprecating was the easier humour to reach for in the realm of Ronan’s mind. Considering.

“You still got that bad habit of treating your heart poorly.” Clarke tsked, shaking his head in disapproval. “I’m glad there’s someone who’s taking care of it for you.” Before rushing off, Clarke lightly punched Ronan’s shoulder, the same way a basketball coach would an athlete. “I’m proud of you, Ronan.”

Ronan’s grin faded the farther Mr. Clarke marched away. He noticed Declan and Matthew brush past Clarke, visibly exclaiming brief greetings. Ronan swore, looking for the best route to escape Declan but in mere seconds, he was noticed and all plans dissipated. He was more of a fight guy than a flight guy anyways. Immediately, he barred his teeth as Declan approached.

“Jesus Christ I can’t get a damn moment to myself.” Ronan barked.

“You’re surrounded in a room full of old friends and acquaintances of the family. What did you expect? Though I am surprised you haven’t left yet.” Declan spoke with his typical patronizing ire. He swiftly placed his empty wine glass on a passing servers tray. “Where’s Adam?”

“Must’ve forgotten to keep him on his leash.”

Declan groaned. “I wasn’t insinuating-" 

“Wait, so Adam’s all by himself?” Matthew lunged backward, only for Ronan to quickly latched onto his shoulder. 

“What are you doing? Leave Parrish alone.”

“Nope, I’m going to do the whole if-you-hurt-my-brother speech. I did it with Ashley.”

Declan exclaimed a surprised huff of ‘ _what?'_  while Ronan snapped out a ‘ _no you’re fucking not._ ’

“You two can stay here and talk to each other like brothers. No fighting.” Matthew ordered. For a moment, his mouth was left downturned, trying to sound disciplinary. Ronan was surprised that he found himself appropriately admonished. “And if you don’t, me, Adam and Ashley are going to be pissed. And leave you here. And go hang out without you.”

“We’re older than you.” Declan said but he looked guilty as Matthew reprimanded them.

“Don’t care. _Talk_.” Matthew emphasized before he flounced off, most likely in Adam’s direction.

“Fucking weasel.” Ronan hissed. His narrowed his eyes in Declan’s direction. “We’re not talking.”

“Maybe we should.”

“Oh, yes, _please_ tell me how much you disapprove of my relationship. Guess what? I’m fucking gay and that’s how it’s always fucking been. Get over it.”

Declan had the gall to sigh in exaggerated annoyance. “Why do you think I have such a problem with you dating a guy? _I don’t care_.”

“Don’t pretend like you aren’t weirded out by it.” Ronan snarled.

“Okay,” Declan amended. “I might’ve been weirded out about it before, _years_ ago might I add, but I’m over it. Or, I’m working on it. I’m not a homophobic asshole, Ronan, I’m just a regular indiscriminatory asshole. I don’t care who you date. I’m just ecstatic you aren’t with Kavinsky.”

Ronan instantly recoiled. “I would _never_ -”

“And,” Declan continued, composed, “you could certainly do worse than Parrish. Top student at Aglionby, responsible, well-mannered, doesn’t put up with your shit. I can’t complain.”

“You don’t even know him.”

“I plan to get to. Plus, you don’t think I haven’t had my own research on your friends, right?" 

“That’s fucking creepy.”

“I wanted to make sure you weren’t getting into any unwanted trouble.”

“You’re a fucking dick. I don’t need you surveillancing me.”

“I’m not trying to - you’re so fucking… _difficult_. All the damn time. I’m not trying to ruin your goddamn life, Ronan, I’m trying to make it better.”

“And you think taking the Barns away from me is going to help? Piss off Declan. You don’t give a shit about anything except your reputation.”

“Threatening you with the Barns was uncalled for.” Declan acquiesced. What was even more unsettling was that he actually looked guilty over the whole ordeal.

Ronan didn’t buy it.

Declan continued. “Matthew also might’ve given me hell for it, right after Ashley did. I thought it would be suitable motivation for you to not act like a total dick. I was also disappointed that you hadn’t mentioned this, what seems to be, long-term relationship to me.” Declan ran a hand through his curls, ruining the neat sweep of his gelled hair. “I’m done using the Barns as leverage, you can come whenever you’d like, move back in for all I care.”

Ronan narrowed his eyes. “So your fling of the month yells at you and suddenly I get to go back home.”

“Ashley and I’ve been together almost a year now.” Declan muttered.

“Congrats on your heterosexual relationship. Must’ve been tough. Monogamy's a bitch.”

“ _I don’t care if you’re gay_. I’ve known since you were younger. You’re not very subtle.”

“I wasn’t trying to hide it.” Ronan sniped defensively.

“Regardless.” Declan murmured. He almost spoke the same way he had when they were younger and he wasn’t stifled with the crushing weight of responsibility following their parents passing. Declan reached into his left breast pocket, slowly pulling out a lone key. He handed it to Ronan. Immediately, Ronan recognized it yet Declan still said, “for the Barns.”

Ronan pocketed the key, the warmth of Declan’s palm still warming the metal. Declan didn’t apologize but Ronan didn’t expect him to. He wasn’t too keen on scrounging out a half-assed apology either.

“Hey,” Declan reached out to clap Ronan on the shoulder, dissolving the lingering tension, “I better be involved in the wedding planning.”

“Oh, fuck off.” Ronan muttered but he didn’t sound as hostile as he could’ve managed. “You aren’t even invited.”

Ronan noticed Ashley standing a few metres away, most likely troubling over their conversation, as she seemed from an elegant glass with a rim wider than the typical wine glass.

“Your girlfriend’s hovering.” Ronan stated blandly.

Declan peaked over his shoulder. Ronan couldn’t imagine Declan settling with anyone but the look that passed his face as his eyes caught on Ashley was disgusting, layered heavily in blistering affection.

When Declan noticed Ronan’s festering expression of revulsion, Declan rolled his eyes. “You and Adam are worse.” He muttered before traipsing away.

Ronan watched as Declan left, Ashley’s face lighting up when she’d realized she had been spotted, murmuring to each other when Declan was close enough, no doubt a recall of the conversation they’d just had.

Ronan turned around.

That was one of the least difficult conversations he had had with Declan in a long fucking time. He stuffed his hand in his pocket, marking the feel of the key against his thigh, allowing the subtle balloon of content expanding in his chest. 

Absently, Ronan was glad that Declan hadn’t mentioned Aglionby or grades. He knew that there was still going to be an issue between them but tonight didn’t need to spiral into Ronan’s abysmal attendance record and his grades scraping the bare minimum. His thoughts drifted. He quickly perused the area for the bar. He grabbed a glass of wine for himself, he was never properly I.D’d, and a glass of bubbling apple cider and left in search of Adam.

 

* * *

 

He was going to fucking kill Lynch.

Adam, after a half hour of pointless small talk with a group of inebriated, _affectionate_ ladies, had managed to claw his way out of their conversation with a half hearted excuse of finding the restroom. 

Ronan was supposed to have been getting drinks. It shouldn't have taken longer than five minutes finding beverages, not with the way servers were constantly revolving around the room and the bartender lazily wiping the granite countertop of the deserted bar.

Adam simmered as he crossed the room, flashing a perfunctory smile whenever he had been recognized and consequently gestured at.

“Adam, hey! Hey, slow down.”

Adam faltered mid-step, whirling around to face the youngest Lynch, who was leisurely jogging towards Adam, suit jacket mildly fluttering.

“Matthew,” Adam said in surprise. He rubbed the back of his neck, slightly embarrassed. “Sorry, I was just looking for Ronan. You haven’t seen him, have you?”

“Him and Dec are talking. I’d give them a few minutes. Any longer and we should assume ones killed the other.”

“That’s fair.” Adam hummed. He wouldn’t asked if Matthew needed anything in particular but that sounded rude and he wanted to be impressive to this Lynch brother. He wished, not for the first time, that he had Gansey’s classic charm or Blue’s admirable spunk. Instead, he was only Adam. “Uh, what’s up?" 

With absolutely no pretext, Matthew leaned forward and pulled Adam into a spontaneous hug. Adam was stunned, his arms awkwardly pinned to his sides as Matthew hugged over them. After a moment of hesitance, Adam unwound his arms and instead enveloped Matthew, allowing his chin to rest on Matthew’s bundles of wild curls. When Matthew pulled away, Adam was rewarded with his cheesy grin, blue eyes dancing in an expression that Adam was unfamiliar with.

“Thank you.” Matthew spoke earnestly, his cheer slightly drooping to convey his sincerity. “I haven’t seen Ronan so happy in a long time. He’s been smiling, around _Declan_ , of all people.”

Guilt coated Adam’s insides, like an irritating itch that ran along the underside of his skin. “I’m not sure how much of that is actually me.”

“It’s you. Trust me, I’m his brother. I know.” Matthew fidgeted. “I love my brothers but they have their issues. But you being here - Ronan’s _lighter_ , I guess. I’m just happy for you two, that’s all.”

 “Oh.”

Matthew nodded, like he expected Adam’s lame excuse of a response. “I know Ronan can be difficult but he likes you, a whole lot. I just wanted to say… be patient with him." 

“I am, or at least I’m trying to.” Adam said. “I want to be a good boyfriend.”

 Maybe it was a quality of the Lynches, but Adam felt comfortable enough to open up. Under Matthew’s forthright stare, Adam felt like he could divulge the darkest of his insecurities.

 Adam hesitated. He ended up saying, “Ronan could have just about anyone.” _Yet he chose me_.

“Maybe, but he couldn’t keep just anyone. He’s stubborn and argumentative and the _worst_ with his phone.”  

Adam knew this. He often prided himself on his vast knowledge of Ronan Lynch, walking dichotomy, brooding enigma, scary raven perched on his shoulder. The same person who had cupped that baby raven in his hands with a kind of gentle care that would’ve taken so many by surprise.

Not Adam though.

It was almost reassuring to hear Matthew speak so highly of their relationship, his approval running rampant through each enthusiastic syllable. He seemed to think that Adam was _enough_ despite all that believed otherwise. Adam felt the burn of possibility, the tenacious graze of courage. Maybe it would work. Maybe they could be real boyfriends, who went on real dates, with real touches that sent Adam’s head spinning. Maybe Adam could meet Matthew and Declan without the lies, without suffocating the consequences of this ruse.

Maybe, maybe, maybe.

Adam wasn’t built on maybes.

“He’s awful with his phone.” Adam’s voice was gruff, his throat abnormally dry. But Matthew chuckled in response.  

“Stop threatening, Parrish!” Ronan’s voice scolded from seemingly nowhere until the owner of that very voice appeared, stalking towards them. He handed Adam an artful glass and Adam looked at it carefully, smelling the contents before tasting the bubbling fizz of apple.

“Never,” Matthew grinned, winking at Adam as if they were sharing a secret.

“What the hell are you two gossiping about?”

“Just complaining about how terrible you are with answering your phone. Adam and I aren’t going to put up with it much longer, right Adam?”

Dutifully, Adam nodded. “Shape up, Lynch.”

“I knew I shouldn’t have left you two together for long. Anyways, Parrish, I-” Ronan opened his mouth, staring at Adam, before he promptly snapped it shut, deliberately frowning in Matthew’s direction. “Do you mind?”

Matthew sighed. “Okay, lovebirds, I get it. I’ll see you at our table. Don’t be late for dinner or Declan’ll get a hernia.”

Matthew skipped away and finally, _finally_ , Adam was alone in the company of Ronan.

He smacked Ronan’s chest.

“The fuck was that for?”

“Leaving me alone for like an _hour_. Fucking dick.” Adam hissed. “You’re lucky I bumped into Matthew. He made me feel a whole less murderous than I was 20 minutes ago.”

“Yeah. he has that effect.”

Adam pursed his lips, folding his arms over his chest, his glass firmly dangling from Adam’s fingers.

“I’m _sorry_.” Ronan huffed. There was a hint of sincerity but mostly stretched melodramatic exasperation.

“Next time I’ll ditch you at a party where you know virtually no one.”

“You’ve got a couple of fans,” Ronan eyed the group of ladies that Adam had talked to, whom were now seated at their table, chattering incessantly.

“Shut up.” Adam took a sip of his drink. “How was Declan? Matthew mentioned that him and I might’ve need to help hide the body.”

“It was… okay. Not bad. He wasn’t his usually dick-ish self.”

“It’s refreshing to talk to someone who isn’t a constant asshole, isn’t it?”

Ronan ignored the jibe. “Apparently, he doesn’t care that I’m gay. I’m allowed back at the Barns. Gave me a key and everything.”

Second hand triumph surged in Adam’s chest. Though Ronan’s tone was dismissive, he knew how much this meant to him, both the Barns and Declan’s approval.

“Fuck, Ronan.” Adam swore gleefully. He bumped Ronan’s shoulder with his own, Ronan cursing as he spilt a sliver of his drink, the wine sloshing around the glass.

“Yeah. Could’ve gone worse.”

“I’m glad it didn’t. I think you deserve a break.”

Ronan was saved from responding when a voice interrupted, a man standing at the podium near the front of the room announcing that dinner was to begin shortly and for everyone to take their seats. Adam’s stomach grumbled loudly at the announcement. With the chaos of socializing, he hadn’t realized how hungry he was until he realized he had last eaten several hours ago back at the hotel.

The night was already almost over.

Ronan snorted at Adam’s rumbling stomach, steering him in the direction of their table. “Christ, Parrish,” he swore in annoyance but Adam didn’t believe him for a second.

 

* * *

 

Their table consisted of Declan and Ashley sitting across from where he and Ronan were seated. Adam was squished in between Ronan and Matthew, the last 3 of the 8 seats being accompanied by Declan’s acquaintances that Adam had only shortly conversed with.

Dinner was a buffet and Adam, under the encouragement of Matthew and example set by Ronan, piled the exquisite food on his plate until there was hardly any space left. Everything was incredible, the sweet glaze of honey on ham, the taste of roast beef and garlic mashed potatoes. Half of the things on his plate he had never eaten in his life, Ronan often barking tendrils of laughter when Adam screwed his face in distaste when he had tried something he hadn’t like. Apparently, he wasn’t a fan of mussels.

For the first time in Adam’s life, he felt _full_.

Still, he hadn’t refused when Ronan had disappeared and come back with a plate full of delicate desserts, small squares of cake and fruit and pretentiously decorated pudding that Adam immediately delved into.

Adam bit into a massive cupcake and Ronan, slightly embarrassed, threw him a napkin when he stated that Adam had gotten a dollop of cream on the tip of his nose.

He felt delirious, full to the point of exhaustion, sipping bubbly cider, him and Ronan making fun of the party’s residents like the assholes they were. Ronan had teased Adam’s ferocious appetite and Adam, in turn, had stuck out his chocolate coated tongue.

At one point, the table had been cleared of everyone besides Ronan and Adam, who had been left munching on deserts and avoiding human contact. 

As they ate, Adam noticed the hushed movement of the caterers taking down the buffet and reshuffling the tables so that the dance floor was vacant and available. The music, which had been quietly playing as lyricless background noise, was slowly dallied more emphatically, loud enough that dancing was encouraged but quiet enough that conversation could still persist without effort. Slowly, a mirage of older couples begun trickling to the floor.

“It’s about to get wild in here.” Ronan deadpanned.

Adam snickered. “Is this your way of asking me to dance?”

“ _Fuck_ that.”   

Adam ended up watching as the couples swayed rhythmic-less to the bland music. Most people hadn’t strayed from their tables and sat, casually chatting and sipping at their drinks. Servers were weaving in between pulled out chairs, clearing finished plates and abandoned napkins.

“Hey,” Ronan whispered, warm breath fanning Adam’s earlobe. “Let's get out of here.”

“We can’t just leave, Lynch. 

“Half an hour break from socializing. I’m _dying_.” Ronan’s added, “there’s a lame-ass garden outside.”

“Are you suggesting we hide out in a random garden?”

“Yes?”

Adam paused, weighing his options. The thought of continuing to socialize was exhausting in and of itself, plus, with Ronan pressed against him in silent request, it wasn’t much of a decision. “Half an hour.” Adam conceded. “Then we’re back."

 

* * *

 

They made their way outside, past the massive doors, leaving behind the thrum of noise to the near silence of evening.

The sky was painted in an array of oranges and pinks, the sun just beginning to set, coating the terrain in an artful masterpiece of bittersweet contentment. The field, and subsequent garden, was vacant, everyone still contained inside along the swell of noise except for the two of them. The Hall, just on the outskirts of the city, was free from the noise of traffic or the general shuffle of people. They walked along the gentle platform the grass provided, towards the plethora of flowers until they were in the midst of plants, following a path of tiny grey stones. They continued, cutting underneath the barricade of branches until the Hall was nearly out of sight, comforted by the surrounding trees hiding the two in their own private moment: the first time the entire night that they had had just to themselves.

It was too quiet. 

Flowers sprouted from surface, decorated in soft hues of melancholy blues and emerald greens that contrasted greatly with the lilac sky. Violet coloured flowers, that were clumped together in random bursts of colour, wound around the trunk of trees, messily hugging the barks edges, digging into crevices.

Adam reached out, gently brushing the pad of his thumb against a flower petal, its velvet exterior soft and dull. In the back of his mind, Cabeswater fluttered. Instantly, Adam felt comforted by the trees, by the flowers, by the sight of Ronan against the backdrop of tumbling blossoms.

Adam watched as Ronan peeled off his suit jacket, tossing it over a nearby branch and roughly loosening his tie. Ronan rolled the sleeves of his dress shirt to his elbows, stretching his arms, the material of his attire accentuating his muscle. He looked effortlessly handsome, the smooth fabric bunched raggedly that gave Ronan a look of careless allure and Adam felt helpless as he stared. He inhaled once, because everything felt more at peace here, and twice because Ronan had him feeling breathless.

It almost felt blasphemous to break the impenetrable silence.

Adam did anyways.

“So what did you think Lynch? Couldn’t have been so bad pretending to be my boyfriend.” Adam grinned when Ronan caught his eye, reluctant fondness creating an avalanche inside his head. Adam fiddled with the moss coating the tree trunks.

“Could’ve been worse. What about you? I was the one who forced you into coming.”

Adam rolled his eyes. “I told you, you didn’t force me into anything. Believe it or not Lynch, I’m capable of saying no, even to idiots like you.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Ronan exhaled in mocking aggravation. “You should be happy to hear that everyone’s in fucking love with you. Do you know how many people came up to me congratulating me on my boyfriend? Christ, did they all think I was going to die alone?”

Adam snickered. He tentatively moved forward to where Ronan was absently fiddling with a leaf that had been aimlessly drifting.

“How was tonight?” Adam inquire. His voice was soft, an eerie quietude descending between them.

“Honestly?” Ronan flicked his gaze upwards. “It was a hell of a lot better than I thought it was going to be. You managed to make this dumb-ass party actually bearable, Parrish.”

“We lasted the entire night.” Adam mused. “I thought we were going to be out of here before dinner.”

“Almost reconsidered the whole thing when Bernards showed up.”

“What an asshole.” Adam acceded. “I’m glad we didn’t though. You got your brothers’ approval and the Barns back.” 

“And what did you get?” Ronan asked. He tried to sound casual but Adam heard the desperate peal of interest.

 _The thread of possibility, a burst of bravery, a decent meal, a suite fit for a king, the chance to spend time with you_. Adam thought this with a certain heaviness yet he didn’t dare speak it aloud.

“A good story.” Adam smiled. “Blue is going to have a field day when she hears about this.”

As he spoke a leaf dwindled down from up above landing on the edge of Ronan’s shoulder.

Adam reached over and with the gentlest touch, picked the leaf off of. His hand lingered against the thin material of Ronan’s shirt, aware of the muscle that was hidden there and the way Ronan had frozen under his touch. There was no need for touches here, not when no one was around to see them. They both knew this. Yet, Adam did not move his hand. He felt braver here. He wasn’t sure if it was because he was among the trees or because he was finally - _finally_ \- alone with Ronan or if because there had been so many signs of encouragement tonight.

They were not the same Adam and Ronan that arrived. 

“Adam,” Ronan said, voice abnormally haggard. He said Adam the same way one would speak of their favourite song. Adam didn’t care for music but Ronan made his mind sing anyways.

“What?” Adam said eventually because Ronan hadn’t continued. “What is it?”

“I need to say something. And I need to say it now or I don’t think I ever will and I know I’ve ruined it but I don’t care.”

Adam lost all ability to move. His hand was glued onto Ronan’s shoulder, trembling with anticipation.

“I never wanted for you to pretend to be my boyfriend, or, it’s made everything worse.” At Adam’s slightly wounded expression, Ronan let out an angry noise of frustration. “Not that it was bad, it wasn’t. I’m not saying this right. Remember when I had blurted that fake story of how we started dating, back with Declan and Matthew?”

Adam nodded even though he knew Ronan was aware that he remembered. 

“I’ve thought about that same goddamn scenario over and over again except I’ve never had the guts to fucking _do_ it. And then this party happened and I was an idiot thinking that if I never had the chance to date you, that faking it, _lying_ about it would be enough.” 

Ronan’s eyes were wide with terror and fear and daring bravery. It was his eyes that revealed his honesty, his voice that shone with ferocious passion. His fidgeting hands that betrayed his anxiousness, his tender affection. Adam felt his body dip, his skin was a livewire, his heart jumping so erratically in his chest he was afraid it would escape from the confines of his chest.   

“I love you, Adam.”

Everything stopped. Adam’s heart stilled.

“I’m so fucking over the moon, head-over-goddamn-heels, in love with your scrawny ass.  Before, you asked me if you had any competition. It’s always been you, Adam. There’s been no other goddamn option for me.” Ronan looked somber underneath the caramel sky, dressed entirely in black, but his eyes were blazing. Adam couldn’t look away, it was impossible. “I know I’ve already ruined everything because of this stupid fake boyfriend _bullshit_ -”

“You’re an idiot.” Adam blurted, effectively halting Ronan’s stuttered words strung together in earnest reverence. Ronan’s eyebrows dipped, his body slightly pulling away from where Adam’s hand kept him anchored. “I wouldn’t change tonight for anything.”

Adam felt something ignite in his chest, flaring, warming every inch of him. That little spark, the same one that had been burning within the depths of his cluttered unwanted heart all night, manifested into an undeniable need.

This wasn’t a fickle decision. Adam knew it couldn’t be.

They were difficult and stubborn and they couldn’t go a week without arguing about _something_. And yet.

Ronan stood in front of him, mere centimeters away, naked honestly plaintive in his words. They had slowly gravitated towards each other, magnetically, while the trees swayed in melodious synchrony. Ronan looked unnerved and afraid and Adam could see him slowly barricading himself, the walls rising again, mustering up enough hurt to retaliate.

“God, Ronan,” Adam’s mind emptied. He thought of his navy tie that this miracle of a creature had gifted him. He thought of the way Ronan had teased him, had brought him to the verge of uncontrollable laughter again and again, “I’ve wanted to do this all damn weekend.”

He surged forward. The moment their lips pressed together, Adam’s world tilted.

Around them, the universe was utterly silence. It was only Adam and Ronan and the trees.

A fiery warmth bloomed in the center of Adam’s chest and he felt overwhelmed, unable to contain the glorious heat, pushing more fervently against Ronan’s lips. He ran his hands up the length of Ronan’s body, pressing against the tight muscle of his abdomen, passing his solid chest, until he was able to wind his hands behind Ronan’s neck and run his fingers across his buzzcut. He felt Ronan finally make use of his own hands and felt them hesitantly stray from where they had been glued to Adam’s waist, moving upwards until they met, cupping Adam’s cheeks. As their kissing delved into messy practice, intense hunger building in Adam’s stomach, insatiable and powerful, Ronan’s hands remained gentle, holding Adam as if he held the entirety of the universe between his palms.

Inferno ricocheted in Adam’s stomach, enthusiastic kisses melting into deeper ones, Adam tightening his grip, undoubtedly leaving crescent moons in Ronan’s skin. His eyes fluttered at the touch of something velvet brushing against his cheek.

“ _Fuck,_ ” Adam sighed as he pulled away. He widened his eyes as a plethora of burgundy and coral coloured flower petals fell around them, blanketing them in all types of reds. They seemingly came from nowhere, raining downwards; a gentle storm, a hurricane that left no path of destruction.

A petal caught in the junction where Ronan’s neck met his collarbone. Adam felt the familiar pull in his stomach, the whirlwind of petals simmering down to a gentle flutter.

“Again?” Adam said, exasperated, flicking at one of the petals sitting on Ronan’s shoulder.

“Fucking Cabeswater.” Ronan breathed, trying to alleviate some of Adam’s embarrassment and attempting to gain some sort of footing.

Adam huffed out a soft sound that sounded deliriously happy, hot breath fanning Ronan’s cheek. He felt like he was floating and the only thing grounding him was the press of Ronan’s miraculous palms against his cheeks. Adam eventually pulled away from the lulling warmth. He blinked, tilting his head and a petal fell from his hair, briefly brushing the tip of his nose before gently drifting to the ground.

Ronan leaned forward, tilting his forehead against Adams, regaining his breath. Adam revelled at the feel of Ronan pressed against him, at the way his chest was heaving as severely as Adam’s, the way they were both left breathless left in the company of one another.

Around them, the trees moved, despite the lack of wind, leaves whistling.

“I don’t think it’s just you doing this,” Ronan murmured, voice quiet. He wore his heart on his sleeve. The leaves rustled wildly. Adam had never been more charmed.

He took a moment to study Ronan. His chapped lips were bitten and red, swollen and ragged, cheeks flushed. His eyes were incredibly bright, glowing, and every few seconds he released a shallow breath. He looked ruined, completely undone under the touch of Adam’s hand.

Adam felt his own confession, the precipice of the L word, burn at the back of his throat. He wanted to speak, he wanted to say it so bad. “Ronan, I… I’ve,” he stuttered haltingly, uselessly.

“You don’t need to say anything. Not yet. I get it.” Ronan said and relief doused Adam like a tidal wave. Relief and awe and the L word.

Adam folded against Ronan, his forehead resting on Ronan’s chin, Ronan’s hands slipping from Adam’s cheeks and enveloping him in a warm hug.

He wasn’t sure how long they stood like that, amidst the trees, the fragmented foliage surrounding them, until they pulled away.

“Let’s get out of here. For real this time. This party’s a fucking bore.” Ronan’s voice was deep and ragged and Adam wholeheartedly agreed with the sentiment.

They walked back, tentatively brushing hands but no one quite reaching to latch them together. Ronan’s jacket hung over his shoulder and Adam figured the two of them looked ridiculous: sporting matching grins, Adam’s hair a mess and both their faces tellingly red.

They found Matthew sitting at the table, head bowed in his hands, as he sleepily murmured to Declan and Ashley who were casually chatting. At the sight of Ronan and Adam, Matthew’s head perked up. Adam and Ronan had announced their departure, Adam shaking Declan and Ashley’s hand and accepting another one of Matthew’s pleasant bear hugs whilst Ronan said his own farewells. Matthew and Ronan’s hug lasted longer, the two wrestling around each other until Ronan had Matthew in a suitable headlock and Declan, who looked a mixture of uncomfortable and satisfied, pulled Ronan into an awkward side bro-hug. 

“You better bring Adam to Christmas!” Matthew hollered. “I make a mean cranberry sauce. You’re coming, right Adam?”

Adam foundered, being so readily accepted in this family as if he belonged, as if had done anything to deserve it. He pictured it: Matthew attempting to cook while Ronan hovered behind him, Declan and Ashley beside the crackling wood of the fire, Adam seamlessly fitting into the image, slotting himself next to Ronan, joking alongside Matthew, conversing with Declan. He found it difficult to swallow. The idea that seemed so enticing was also alarming. He had never had a family and now the Lynches were offering it without a second glance.

“Leave him alone.” Ronan rolled his eyes. He squeezed Adam’s hand. “You don’t need to listen to them.” He muttered.

“What, you don’t want Adam over?” Matthew pouted.

“I don’t need you forcing him to play House.”

“I’m not forcing him. Right, Adam? 

“Right,” Adam croaked. He looked to Matthew, this time more genuine. “I’d love to join you for Christmas,” he flicked his gaze to Declan. “If you wouldn’t mind having me.”

“By all means.” Declan responded. “Ronan’s less hellish to talk to when you’re around anyways.”

“Fuck you.” Ronan grinned. He tugged Adam down the length of the hall, past the lingering swarm of bodies.

“Hey, asshole.” Declan bellowed as they parted. “Answer your damn phone once in awhile. 

“Never.” Ronan answered and pulled Adam through the exit. Adam haphazardly threw a wave behind him, hearing Matthew’s answering squawk of goodbyes and fell in step with Ronan as they made their way towards the car.

“So apparently you’re coming for Christmas.”

Ronan’s voice sounded too off-kilter. All previous elation escaped from the hidden depths of Adam’s mind and all that was left was the barrage of second guesses.

“I know,” Adam felt stupid. Of course Ronan didn’t want him for Christmas. They’d just kissed and Adam was acting as if he’d just proposed. “I wasn’t sure what to say. If you don’t want me there-”

“Hey,” Ronan paused, causing Adam to jolt out of his stupor. “I want you there.”

Adam thought to ask why.

_It’s always been you, Adam._

“Then I’ll be there.”

They strode forward in tentative silence. Adam tilted his head towards the charcoal sky, the slow hum of cars leaving and tinkerbell pitched laughter dwindling down to a babbling lull. The familiar click of Ronan unlocking his car doors pulled Adam back, his sleek car parked near the curb just as they’d left it and suddenly Adam yearned to collapse into the leather seat. He pulled the door open and sat as Ronan opened up the back door and tossed his suit jacket back before joining Adam in the front. Before long, Ronan pulled the car out and around, beginning their journey.

“Declan booked the hotel room until Sunday but if we leave now, we’d be able to make it back to Henrietta before noon,” Ronan said reluctantly.   

Adam could get a head start on homework. He could call Boyd and ask to pick up a shift last minute.  

But he didn’t want to.

He had already taken off all his shifts for the weekend and completed all the school work he needed. He felt light, no stress pulling him in every direction that wore him ragged and thin. He turned his head, so that his cheek was pressed against the leather seat, his lips quirking in a peace driven smile. “I’m in no rush." 

Ronan mirrored Adam’s expression. He looked unsure, feebly attempting to say something, _anything_ , until Adam continued, one eyebrow arched as he teased. “I don’t see any point in wasting a perfectly good penthouse suite.”

To Adam’s delight, Ronan’s face flushed; his porcelain cheekbones splashed in hues of rose. It reminded Adam of the flower petals that fluttered around them while they kissed, of the soft velvet shades of pink and red that gently flitted down against Ronan’s face, landing on his shoulders.

Adam thought of the countless opportunities of ardent kisses they’d have. He wondered if that’s what Ronan was thinking of too.

Ronan pushed his key into ignition, missing once before trying again, leaving the car in park. Adam revelled in the familiar hum of the engine, drowning out the resounding silence and keeping his underlying strings of nerves at bay. Ronan shifted the gear, one hand on the wheel while the other rested on his thigh. Adam, briefly, boldly, thought about laying his hand over top of Ronan’s. He thought, in a perfect world, Ronan would reciprocate the gesture and intertwine their fingers together. Except Adam did not feel as brave as before, reality soon settling in, and Ronan was so tense that Adam felt that if he touched him, he would crash the car. Adam fiddled with his hands, fingering the edges of his jacket. He wondered if Ronan regretted this already.

Ronan coughed.

“You know I’m not going to jump you when we get to the hotel, Lynch.” Adam said, defensively. He wasn’t sure why he was making this a big deal but he reflexively snapped, the same way he always did with Ronan, mostly because he always counted on Ronan snapping back. “You can relax." 

“Oh, fuck off.” Ronan said, adhering to Adam’s instigative words. “I wasn’t thinking that.”

“Whatever,” Adam rolled his eyes. They had kissed only an hour ago and now they were back to fighting as if it had never happened. Except, it had, and things had changed.

Was this how it was going to be? Unfinished sentences and constant bickering and stumbling around each other with inexperienced haste? Adam yearned to kiss Ronan again. Now that he had once, he was drunk with the possibility of doing it endlessly.

All Adam did was want and want and want. He fought with everything he had to be where he was now: away from his parents, achieving stellar grades, fighting for his place and his friends, looking for a dead Welsh king, determined to survive. He wanted to fight for Ronan too. He wasn’t sure how, terrified of bitter rejection, of breaking their tentative beginning.  

The drive was silent. The roads were bare. The traffic lights blurred as Adam blinked. He felt too wired to suddenly fall into a fit of exhaustion. Adam peeked over at Ronan, whose jaw had slowly begun to unclench, who was fixated on the road with a concentration Adam had never witnessed in his life.

Adam wasn’t sure how much time had passed, it seemed to drag on infinitely. Ronan took a detour, straying from the more efficient route they took when they arrived at the party but Adam bit his tongue despite his curiosity. He stubbornly refused to be the one to break the silence when Ronan was the one who created it.

“Fuck,” Ronan huffed, so suddenly that Adam startled at the noise. He pulled over to the shoulder of the road, flicking on his emergency blinkers. The car was still running but securely parked and Ronan clicked on the interior lights.

“Lynch, what are you-”

“Fuck,” Ronan said again, “I don’t want - I’m not going to screw this up before we’ve even had a chance. I’ve wanted,” Ronan paused, restarting, awkwardly reshuffling his thoughts and trying to deliver them in a way Adam would understand. “I’ve thought about kissing you and never thought once, in my goddamn life, that I would be able to. I’m still processing.”

“God,” Ronan said after a moment. He raked a hand across his buzz cut, “I fucking hate,” he gestured vaguely towards the open space between them, “emoting and shit.”

Adam smiled helplessly. “You aren’t too bad at it. You were earlier but you’re redeemable.”

“Shit head.” Ronan breathed but he was smiling too, nervous and strange. The air around them seemed more charged, as if it had emptied and refilled with their anxious energy.

“Me too.” At Ronan’s confused glance, Adam corrected. “When you talked about wanting to kiss. Me too.”

“We’re shit at this.”

“Can I kiss you again?” Adam asked because he wasn’t sure if he was able to go much longer without kissing.

“Yes, God, yes." 

The space between the two disappeared as Adam unclipped his seatbelt, shifting forward to press their lips together. It was awkward, leaning over their seats, but Adam didn’t care. Ronan parted his lips, a sigh escaping and Adam took initiative, tasting the warm caverns of Ronan’s mouth. At some point they needed to breathe and Adam pulled away first, chest heaving. Adam couldn’t pinpoint the rope of emotions that tunneled through his body, burrowing under his skin and lighting each nerve on fire. He enjoyed the sheer satisfaction at Ronan’s wrecked appearance: the way his lips were swollen, cheeks flushed, eyes wide.

 _I did that_ , Adam thought, a hurricane of astonishment and pride tainting each syllable.  

“Making out in the car, Parrish? Classy.” Ronan tried to sound casual but he looked as winded as Adam felt.

“Couldn’t wait.” Adam murmured.

“Jesus, you’re obsessed with me.”

“How long?”

“How long what?” Ronan asked, startled.

“How long have you liked me?”

From anyone else it would’ve sounded vain. Adam didn’t care. He needed to know.

“I don’t fucking know. I didn’t write it on my calendar.”

Adam arched a judgemental brow and Ronan groaned. “A year maybe? A year and a half?”

Adam’s expression jumped. Over a year? Back when he had been convinced that Ronan had hated him at worst and put up with him at best. Back during when he had been kind’ve-sort’ve-almost dating Blue.

“Happy, asshole?”

“Very.” Adam murmured and pulled Ronan in for another kiss.

This time, when they separated, Ronan sighed, tilting his head against his seat, staring at Adam the same way he’d been doing for months. “So, we’re doing this? For real?”

“I’m all in this. If you are.”

Ronan’s face broke out into a scintillating grin, pumping his fist against the roof of the car in thoughtless abandon, cursing with delighted vulgar. Even under the lackluster lights of the car, Ronan looked miraculous and Adam stared with unabashed reverence.

He turned to watch the sky through the windshield, mesmerized at how the stars coated the ebony backdrop.

It gave him an idea. Adam was going to do this properly.

He cleared his throat, linking his hands with Ronan, who pressed a careful kiss against the rough patch of skin along Adam’s knuckles. Adam’s heart pounded, feeling more awake, more _alive_ than he thought possible.

Adam licked his lips, Ronan’s eyes overtly following the movement, before he continued. “We’re not in an empty parking lot and you haven’t spontaneously taken me to that small dinner you used to go to with your parents but I can see the stars through the windshield-”

Ronan huffed, a resounding ‘yes’ blurted out in elation before Adam even had the chance to properly ask.

  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wanted to get this chapter out before I leave for vacation. /Please, please, please let me know what you think!/ Also, feel free to let me know what I should write next! I was def thinking of making this a series and writing a Fake-Exes AU (thanks to Saachi smh) or doing a Childhood Friends to Lovers. 
> 
> tumblr --> cherishadamparrish


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